Alex Schneider takes a moment's notice from the heaving windward rail as 70 years old Alraune thrashes up the first leg of a race at the XI Veteranen Regatta, Laboe, Germany, August 1999. Most of the 250 classics from the north that took part were leaving harbour for their last race of the year. Among them was the Giles/Five 12-Metre Flica II having arrived from the Mediterranean.

A rough sea confronts us, darkly reflecting the low clouds that have rolled in from the north. Under a grey sky, in the pale morning light, we are treated to a cold and fierce north-easterly wind that turns the water white at times.

Proud, stirring waves jump at us and get split beneath the forefoot. The bow lowers into the rushing dark green to lift up again for the next forward thrust. I feel a wet smack on my neck: "Hold on to the deck - the battle is on!"

The elements are awake and Alraune is in her element as she carries us onwards to the first mark, her sails tensed to the gusty wind. Another wave hits the bow, scattering into jets of spray over the deck. Although the water is surprisingly warm, fingerns work slowly, numb with cold. But you keep your wits about you, washed clear and alert.

The vagueness of morning falls from us as soon as we realize our boat's vigor today, offering us a chance to dash along in front positions. The groove is found quickly at 8-9 knots. Soon our green crew sweaters cling to our bodies, limp and soaked. I glance back and notice some crew already slipping into their oilskins. I wait for a chance to reach down for mine, only if the thrill of speed allows for a second.

Now in full motion, we feel our quest is clear, all of us bound to the same emotion, clutching to the same craft, the hull being heeled by the forceful genoa, with the leeward side awash already.

"All crew up to windward!"

Back on the little bronze pedestal the sheet is being trimmed in anticipation of an approaching puff. It passes: a hard sweeping blow. In the cockpit they are deciding whether to shorten sail; the jib alone would do better now. But the first mark is not far off, so we take our chance with the genoa despite the increasing obligation to pay off to avoid stalling - until the next puff hits. The siren cry of the only female crew aboard, always aroused in extreme situations, makes us move: "Let's reduce canvas!"

Two men drag themselves forward; a third is already at the halyard. I involuntarily slide down the deck but pull myself back up through the spray to reach the forestay. As sheet and halyard are paid out six hands leap and struggle to gather. First the sail pops open then falls quickly until it has to be hauled down the last few metres. For a moment the overpower that had dominated is reduced to a vacuum as it apparently takes a long time until the jib sets and draws.

Leaving the lashed bundle of sail I catch first sight of those who had maintained way on during the change of sails. "Good going," our helmsman's grin indicates. A quick survey of our position in the dispersed fleet shows: many behind, less in front.

Did Bill Gates maybe lie a little bit in his closing statement at TedTalks, which was an echo of his opening statement? Didn't he lie, because he denied the world a potential to battle deseases with sufficient effort, and to provide a desirable level of education to its children?

Well no he didn't lie, because he acknowledged upfront that he is optimistic, because the world without him has achieved amazing things: a strong reduction in child mortality, and an increase in the average lifespan.

Well he did lie, because here is an accomplished man, a man who emerged from the private sector, who did more for the world than any charity could claim, who competed in exchange for wealth, and who now continues to compete in exchange for wealth. The difference between the wealth he now pursues, and the wealth he amassed, is that the latter is a moral stature expressing his value to the world. The businessman Gates is the cause enabling him to be the holier-than-thou Gates. His cause is not selfless, but an expression of his success.

That's why I think he lies when he claims that his ability cannot be found in the private sector. His own was found there! He counts himself among the creed of brilliant minds, not among the marketplace that rewarded his brilliance. His own action, in his words, is not the result of the system that allowed his brilliance to emerge. Read his statements and judge for yourself:

Opening statement:

There are some very important problems that don't get worked on naturally, that is, the market does not drive the scientists, the communicators, the thinkers, the governments, to do the right things. And only by paying attention to these things, and by having brilliant people who care, and draw other people in, can we make as much progress as we need to.

Well no, you wouldn't. Why make such a compromise? Why chop your brain into a fusillade of verse that only poets would normally wrestle with by choice? It's an art of speech you say. That I tell myself too, but the cause for it is unsettling: Twitter is plumage. The handicap of twittering, as compared to superior tools for chat, is accepted willingly in order to belong to the world.

Twitter is wonderful in a pre-chat, or loose-chat mode, but once your brain demands more, where do you go? Well, you stay, chopping your brain, grinding along.

At first, a limit of 140 characters elicits a mode of utterance otherwise muted, and therefore makes it easy to belong to the world. A reply tweet is less invasive, less bulky, than posting a blog comment (psychologically, not technically). Twitter is neutral space, where contact can be made as lightly as brushing past somebody on the street.

But then, once a chat develops, it is held bondage, bizarrely stuttering forward, in a motion that can only be familiar to people used to stop-and-go driving. The mode of exchange changes abruptly, as your brain squeezes through tiny blotches of space. This is your plumage, your art of mainfesting existence, your demonstration of worth, your brain hack. The more you surrender to the stanza, the more you can apparently afford to be wasteful with your time.

I'm talking about incessant twittering. There are people spreading their mind over hundreds of tweets to do what?! To splice into the flow the spit of their minds, wholeheartedly. Twitter is great for blobs of thought and a few repercussions, but for chat? Isn't Twitter a bit ugly for chat - ugly for your brain, to be more precise?

No, it's the handicap we love; the irresistable pull of boasting a staccato of tweets, for the sake of it, and the esthetic of it. If you can afford to blitz your mind over and over to pounce on the air raid of voices, you must be the man! Full lips, tight skin, and clear eyes could be your reward.

I say no. What do I mean by reasonably? By that I mean thinking about conventions, in contrast to thinking inside conventions; thinking with logic, instead of culturally and politically conditioned thinking; thinking: why can I be happy, while others can't, and not: Gosh, life is a miracle.

It is not.

The 3 women, all of them mothers with jobs, would be a sensation if delivered to prying, enlightened eyes via webcam. I think they would, because they're so humorous in an apparently good-natured way. Chatter and laughs? Lots. Sneers and smirks? Lots. From recipes to politics, there is nothing they would not talk about. They're a bunch of seasoned, smart, sensible, grinding girls, taking it easy. What alarms me is that below the shield of apparent interest in the world, below the comic, superficial judgements passed on each and everyone, there lurks a horrible mistake. Here is the story of the beggar, as told by the most talkative of the three women:

I passed a beggar on the street. He asked me for some money, saying that he is hungry. I gave him two oranges. The beggar, unthankful and derisive, took the oranges, but would have preferred the money. So I told him (mockingly) that he should give the oranges back, because he obvisouly wasn't as hungry as he had claimed.

The other 2 women joined her by relating their own experiences with beggars. "How dare they be so unthankful?", said one. "There you go, giving your old, worn clothes to charity, thinking that it's right to do good, and all they do is to tear the stuff out of your hands. They're rude," said the other.

What does Spiegel do with the news?

They talk down on it. With mockery, arrogance, and pretense, the book is presented as something that contradicts the Zeitgeist. Thinking like a journalist for Spiegel, the unquestioned assumption seems to be that failing banks are the result of capitalism. Therefore capitalism must be bad, and a book like this is rather scratchy.

In line with Spiegel's implicit reproach of Merz's book, one would ask: How could someone dare to argue in favor of capitalism, in times like this?! How could someone argue in favor of self-regulating markets, at a time when governments need to step in to clean up the mess? "The holy ghost of unsullied capital" cannot be permitted to undermine our moral duty. At least Friedrich Merz is not a "blind fanatic", according to Spiegel.

WTF! This reasoning is just too plausible, just too upside down - and the reason I can't stand Germany's hypocrisy - the nation of do-gooders. Ha! Greed is to blame, and government is our only hope?! Of course all this is lame and wicked reasoning.

I couldn't think of a more unwelcome time to highlight human shortcomings with regard to rational thinking.

If you're the strongest shepherd, wouldn't it be rational for both you and for all shepherds to let you use up the remaining water? If there are more intelligent children in your family than in the families of the other shepherds, wouldn't that also justify that you use up the water? By giving priority to the strongest shepheard, at least one of them could have a chance of surviving long enough to find a new place to live. The other shepherds would sacrifice their own lifes for the benefit of any life at all, after the waterhole has dried up. In comparison, a sharing agreement seems to be less rational, because the waterhole would dry up faster, everybody would die slowly, and the agreement would not be binding anyways, in the face of death. Ultimately, it might be wise for them to fill up their bottles and to start off into different directions immediately, rather than risking aggression against each other.

Of course, no individual can be expected to give up what he values most: his own life. No individual would have reason to believe that somebody else is definitely more able to find a solution. Hence, rational individualism would compell you to fight for yourself, and to place higher value on your life, the life of your family, and the life of your livestock, before giving any concern to other shepherds. Each shepherd, acting in his own self-interest, would act rationally. Individual rationalism would lead to a struggle for individual advantage. This could play out in the form of violence, displays of authority and oppression, with a randomn winner as the result. It could also play out in the form of sharing agreements, with compromise and inequalities as a result. Anyhow, the prisoner's dilemma precludes a solution that is best for all of them, that is, for the shepherds as a group.

If there is a long-distance runner among them, it would be rational for the group to let that shepherd use up the remaining water, rather than risking extinction of them all. But it would be irrational for any one sheperd to sacrifice his life for that purpose. It would be more rational to risk eventual death in search of a new waterhole.

How would Ayn Rand look at this situation?

Now extend this example to our human species. We don't (yet) have another alternative but to share our planet among us. We are growing at a rate of 80 million people per year. 840 million people are starving. 1,3 billion people live on less than a dollar per day (I bet the number is much higher). Europeans spend 11 million dollars on ice cream per year. That money could be used to save 11 million people from starving to death.

This and other videos should be an eye-opener for anybody still under the impression of the official 9/11 story. In 9/11 and the American Empire, members of Scholars for 9/11 Truth & Justice reveal the inconsistencies and lies that are part of the war game. Physicist Dr. Steven Jones has proven that all 3 towers were brought down by explosives. Watch his presentation. Even without scientific evidence, any layman, any person, can see with open eyes that the so-called collapse of the towers was rather an implosion, a blasting operation, a controlled demolition, a pulverization. Eye witnesses have reported explosions and even a countdown prior to the WTC7 collapse. Videos such as 911 Mysteries include footage exposing the explosions typical of controlled demolition.

On 9/11, about 3000 people were murdered. In addition, tens of thousands of rescue workers are dying today, from the consequences of being exposed to toxic substances.

As the truth is unfolding, it is clear that the official story is wrong. It is obvious that those responsible for 9/11 are trying to conceal the truth. It is obivous that the government tries to prevent further investigation. Therefore it is up to us to investigate — to the people who have not been directly affected by 9/11, who basically have no incentive to fight themselves against crime and deception. It is completely up to volunteers to break public incredulity and bring important details into awareness:

Beginners' Guide to 9/11 Truth
Scholars for 9/11 Truth & Justice
9/11 Truth Movement website
Infowars
Rebuilding America's Defenses — A Summary
911blogger.com
aldeilis.net - Events of 11 September 2001
Radio du Jour interviews with David Ray Griffin
We Are Change
NYC 911 Ballot Initiative
Architects & Engineers for 9/11 Truth - Web Ressources
Terrorism and false flag operations
CBC News - 9/11: Truth, Lies And Conspiracy
9/11 Komplott Weblinks
911 Truth Germany