Status Updates From Krigsturisten

Will mir bitte BITTE jemand sagen, wie ich mit diesem Ende umgehen soll? Denn ich weiß es leider nicht. Wirklich nicht.

Ich habe gerade einfach keine Worte mehr für das, was hier in diesem Buch passiert, was eigentlich in so vielen Teilen der Welt passiert und hier nur auf ein paar wenige Schicksale runtergebrochen wurde.

I could hurl every time I see the new football fans. The family men, with the choreographed movements, sewing machine licenses and polytechnical humbug. Everything is so ordered in the tribunes, even the fights are clean. In the old days, people would appreciate the beauty of a shattered eyebrow, a broken nose, or a smashed jaw. The new fans bleed wrong. And too fast.

"All the inhospitable live in the West."

I once read an article about rich Russians, who pay to experience poverty. For a day, a week or even longer, they live in a slum. Everything is prearranged. The people they meet, are not poor, but actors. There're also some bodyguards ensuring their safety[...]
In the end, they go home to their palaces, show off their pictures to their friends, and say they now knew what it meant to be poor.

Some surprisingly plastic descriptions to be had here.

Some surprisingly plastic descriptions to be had here.