The Unknown Reader

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Post photo: my eternal flame | © Shutterstock

I don't know very much about my readers. This is also the permanent hints of Detlef Stern owed, who likes to remind me that you don't do everything, even if you could. He does not allude to a basic moral principle, but keeps reminding me of the increasing excesses of our General Data Protection Regulation.

Some of my readers like to reply to my posts from time to time by e-mail or in a personal meeting. Few use the possibilities provided by the weblog and write a corresponding comment, participate in the recently provided forum or leave me a note on the blog. Other readers, on the other hand, have subscribed and are informed of new blog posts by e-mail.

And these are the readers about whom I can form my own opinion — a very positive one, by the way!

For me, the majority of my readership remains hidden in the darkness of the internet. I can only see that these readers exist here based on the number of hits and country assignments or the calls to my "international" weblog pages. The fact that these readers actually exist is also confirmed by inquiries from advertising companies and service providers who would otherwise not take any notice of my weblog.

That's why I dedicate this blog post to the unknown reader and ignite the above "eternal" light on behalf of all others.

Dear unknown reader!

Thank you for existing. I don't know who you are or where you live and work, but we probably have a lot in common. At least we think about our world as well as ourselves and like to hear the opinions of others.

I was recently from Thomas Michl, one of my readers, whom I know personally and respect very much, what my expectations of the readers would be? I share his opinion that many fellow citizens are critical and reflective on the road. Unfortunately, however, this is of little use to the community if they mostly keep their knowledge or doubts to themselves.

Douglas Adams formulated this very aptly in his radio play "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" by casually mentioning that shortly before the Vogons destroyed our world, a human had found the solution to all the problems in the universe. And then he lets us know that this solution is not "42".

Since I don't know you, dear unknown reader, it's difficult for me to formulate what I expect from you. But I would be happy if you — at least from time to time — came out of cover and expressed your opinion on the opinions, assumptions and claims offered here in the weblog.

Because if we humans are something, then a kind of communication space that exists because as many different opinions and views as possible meet, rub against each other and we slowly but surely form a common picture of the current one despite or precisely because of the resulting conflicts get reality.

And the better we communicate with each other, the better the current picture of our own reality.

Dear unknown reader, I know that this is not easy, especially when you put your own thoughts on the World Wide Web, which accepts them but also leads them straight to digital nirvana like a lightning rod.

And so I'm glad to know that you exist. And I hope that some of my trains of thought will also stimulate you to contradict yourself and that you can rethink one or the other for yourself.

“If I were allowed to define the nonsense of the age, only one thing would come into question: communicate. An author does not communicate with his reader. He seeks to seduce, amuse, provoke, invigorate him. What a wealth of (still alive) inner movements and corresponding expressions such a brutal garbage chute word devours! Man and woman do not communicate with each other. The manifold riddles that they pose to each other would find their most stale solution as soon as this meaningless concept came between them. A Catholic who thinks he is communicating with God should be excommunicated on the spot. One prays to God and one does not converse, but one receives Holy Communion. All our happy and futile attempts to communicate with the world, to touch and influence ourselves, the whole diversity of our emotions and intentions fall victim to the wasteland and monotony of a socio-technical shorthand. In this way we encourage the meaningless who eat our language with great appetite.”

Bodo Strauss , The one below on tiptoe (2004: 41)

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