Kai Lüdersdorff 💉💉💉

Die Mehrheit der Deutschen will... - Energiewende - Tempolimit - mehr Klimaschutz - Steuergerechtigkeit - Verfolgung von Korruption - bezahlbare Wohnungen - keine MwSt auf Grundnahrungsmittel Die Mehrheit der Deutschen wählt CDU/CSU &AfD, die exakt das verhindern. Dumm. Saudumm.

#ReicheRücktritt Lasst es trenden

Die russische Regierung unterstützt jetzt offen die AfD. Muss man einfach nur wissen, bevor man sein Kreuz macht.

„Sehr geehrte Damen und Herren, geschätzte Überlebende, wenn ich heute durch das Tor von Buchenwald gehe, dann tue ich das nicht als öffentliche Person, sondern als Enkel eines Überlebenden. Ich gehe den Weg, den mein Großvater, Hermann Kerkeling, ab dem 2. Juli 1942 gehen musste. Er war kein Mann der großen Worte, aber ein Mann der Tat. Ein Zimmermann aus Recklinghausen, der zupacken konnte, der Strukturen schuf, der mit seinen Händen arbeitete. Er war ein Mensch, der schlichtweg nicht bereit war, wegzusehen, als die Dunkelheit über Deutschland hereinbrach. Doch am 2. Juli 1942 wurde er zur Nummer 6177. Ein sogenannter „politischer Häftling“. In den Augen des faschistischen Apparats war er ein „Hochverräter“. Hier wurde er gefoltert, gedemütigt und wurde Zeuge unzähliger Morde. Dass er diesen Wahnsinn überlebt hat, ist ein Wunder. Für mich steht sein „Hochverrat“ heute als das höchste Zeugnis von Treue zur Menschlichkeit. Mein Opa Hermann hatte unmittelbar nach der Machtergreifung im Jahre 1933 Flugblätter gegen Hitler verteilt. Er hat nicht geschossen, er hat nicht sabotiert – er hat lediglich die Wahrheit geschrieben, gedruckt und verteilt. Das kostete ihn zwölf Jahre seines Lebens. Zwölf Jahre! Denken Sie kurz darüber nach: Was haben Sie in den letzten zwölf Jahren getan? Sie haben Kinder großgezogen, Karrieren verfolgt, geliebt, gelebt. Hermann saß in Haft, zunächst in der sogenannten „Hölle von Recklinghausen“, in diversen Zuchthäusern und schließlich hier, auf dem Ettersberg. Mein Großvater musste hier in der Effektenkammer seine Zwangsarbeit verrichten. Im Maschinenraum der Entmenschlichung. Er musste den Raub an seinen Mitmenschen verwalten. Uhr, Ehering, Brille, Brosche, Gebiss – alles wurde registriert, als handele es sich um bloße Lagerware. Hier liegt eine der bittersten historischen Lehren: Die Barbarei beginnt nicht mit dem ersten Schuss; sie beginnt dort, wo Menschen nur noch Nummern in einer Statistik sind, wo das Mitgefühl der Buchhaltung weicht und das Gewissen der sinnentleerten Gehorsamspflicht. Als mein Großvater hier heute vor 81 Jahren, 1945, befreit wurde, war er 44 Jahre alt. Körperlich ein gebrochener Mann, geplagt von Krankheiten, die ihn nie wieder verlassen sollten; von einer tiefen Müdigkeit, die keine Nachtruhe der Welt heilen konnte. Eine echte Wiedergutmachung hat er nie erhalten; man hat ihn nach dem Krieg mit ein paar Mark abgespeist. Und das Bitterste: Die Aufhebung seines Unrechtsurteils wegen „Hochverrats“ hat es zu seinen Lebzeiten nie gegeben. In den Augen der Bürokratie blieb der Verfolgte ein Vorbestrafter. Aber das Schwerste für uns als Familie war sein bleiernes Schweigen. Dieses dröhnende Schweigen war wie eine Mauer aus Glas, die seine Seele umgab. Wir – seine Familie – konnten ihn sehen, aber wir konnten ihn nur selten erreichen. Vielleicht wollte er uns schützen? Er wollte nicht, dass die grausame Kälte und der blinde Hass dieses Ortes in unsere warme Wohnstube in Recklinghausen kriecht. Viele der Überlebenden der Nazi-Diktatur haben für sich den Weg des Schweigens gewählt. Das mag uns Erben eine Ahnung vom Horror des Durchlebten geben. Es war und ist unbeschreiblich und unsagbar. Wir, die Bürger der Bundesrepublik Deutschland, tragen keine Schuld an den Taten von damals. Aber wir tragen die Verantwortung für die Konsequenzen dieser Taten im Hier und Jetzt. So etwas wie eine „Gnade der späten Geburt“ gibt es nicht, es gibt nur die Pflicht der späten Erkenntnis. Wer heute behauptet, die Geschichte des Faschismus in Deutschland sei ein abgeschlossenes Kapitel, der hat nicht verstanden, dass die bösen Geister von damals nicht in den Ruinen von Buchenwald geblieben sind. Sie warten darauf, in verunglimpfender Sprache, bösartiger Hetze, im dumpfen Ressentiment und in der alltäglichen Gleichgültigkeit wieder geweckt zu werden. Wer….👇

Psychologen werden Jahrzehnte benötigen, um herauszufinden was mit den Amerikanern passiert ist, die einen Größenwahnsinnigen gewählt hatten, der offensichtlich den Verstand verloren hat.

J.D. Vance (2024).

I've taught European history for 30 years. Americans have always asked me how the Holocaust was possible, how Germans could have enabled a madman reveling in mass murder to carry out his plans. Now we can see in real time how this is enabled; now we have front-row seats.

708 GB image of the Moon 🌑

The American VP traveled all the way to Hungary to support the most pro-Kremlin and corrupt EU leader before the elections. What an embarrassment it is for the USA.

Robert Mueller died last night. He was 81 years old. He had a wife who loved him for sixty years. He had two daughters, one of whom he met for the first time in Hawaii, in 1969, on a few hours of military leave, before he got back on the plane and returned to Vietnam. He had grandchildren. He had a faith he practiced quietly, without performance. He had, in the way of men who have seen real things and survived them, a quality that is increasingly rare and increasingly mocked in the country he spent his life serving. He had integrity. And tonight the President of the United States said good! I have been sitting with that word for hours now. Good. One syllable. The thing you say when the coffee is hot or the traffic is moving. The thing a man who has never had to bury anyone, never had to sit in the specific silence of a room where someone is newly absent, reaches for when he wants the world to know he is satisfied. Good. The daughters are crying and the wife is alone in the house and good. I want to speak directly to the Americans reading this. Not the political Americans. Just the human ones. The ones who have lost a father. The ones who know what it is to be in that first hour, when you keep forgetting and then remembering again, when ordinary objects become unbearable, when the world outside the window seems obscene in its indifference. I want to ask you, simply, to hold that feeling for a moment, and then to understand that the man you elected looked at it and typed a single word. Good. This is not a country having a bad day. I need you to understand that. Countries have bad days. Elections go wrong. Leaders disappoint. Institutions bend. But there is a different thing, a rarer and more terrible thing, that happens when the moral center of a place simply gives way. Not dramatically. Not with a single catastrophic event. But quietly, in increments, until one evening a president celebrates the death of an old man whose family is still warm with grief, and enough people find it acceptable that it becomes the weather. Just the weather. That is what is happening. That is what has happened. The world knows. From Tokyo to Oslo, from London to Buenos Aires, people are not angry at America tonight. Anger would mean there was still something to fight for, some remaining faith to be betrayed. What I see, in the reactions from everywhere that is not here, is something older and sadder than anger. It is the look people get when they have waited a long time for someone they love to find their way back, and have finally understood that they are not coming. America is being grieved. Past tense, almost. The idea of it. The thing it represented to people who had nothing else to believe in, who came here with everything they owned in a single bag because they had heard, somehow, across an ocean, that this was the place where decency was written into the walls. That idea is not resting. It is not suspended. It is being buried, in real time, with 7,450 likes before dinner. And the church said nothing. Seventy million people have decided that this man, this specific man who has cheated everyone he has ever made a promise to, who has mocked the disabled and the dead and the grieving, who celebrated tonight while a family wept, is an instrument of God. The pastors who made that bargain did not just trade away their credibility. They traded away the thing that made them worth listening to in the first place. The cross they carry now is a costume. The faith they preach is a loyalty oath with scripture attached. When the history of American Christianity is written, this will be the chapter they skip at seminary. Now I want to talk about the men who stand next to him. Because this is the part that actually breaks my heart. JD Vance is not a bad man. I have to say that, because it is true, and because the truth matters even now, especially now. Marco Rubio is not a bad man. Lindsey Graham is not a bad man. They are idiots, but not bad, as in BAD! These are men with mothers who raised them and children who love them and friends who remember who they were before all of this. They are not monsters. Monsters are simple. Monsters do not cost you anything emotionally because there is nothing in them to mourn. These men are something more painful than monsters. They are men who knew better, and know better still, and will get up tomorrow and do it again. Every small compromise they made had a reason. Every moment they looked the other way had a justification that sounded, at the time, almost reasonable. And now they have arrived here, at a place where a president celebrates the death of an old man and they will find a way, on television, to say nothing that means anything, and they will go home to houses where children who carry their name are waiting, and they will say goodnight, and they will say nothing. Their oldest friends are watching. The ones who knew Rubio when he still believed in something. Who knew Graham when he said, out loud, on the record, that this exact man would destroy the Republican Party and deserve it. Who sat next to Vance and thought here is someone worth knowing. Those friends are not angry tonight. They moved through anger a long time ago. What they feel now is the quiet, irrecoverable sadness of watching someone disappear while still being present. Of watching a person they loved choose, again and again, to become less. That is what cowardice costs. Not the coward. The people who loved him. And in the comments tonight, the followers celebrate. People who ten years ago brought casseroles to grieving neighbours. Who stood in the rain at gravesides and meant the words they said. Who told their children that we do not speak ill of the dead because the dead were someone's beloved. Those people are tonight typing gleeful things about a man whose daughters are not yet done crying. And they feel clean doing it. Righteous. Because somewhere along the way the thing they were given in exchange for their decency was the feeling of belonging to something, and that feeling is very hard to give up even when you can no longer remember what you gave for it. When Trump is gone, they will still be here. Standing in the silence where the noise used to be. Without the permission the crowd gave them. Without the pastor who told them their cruelty was holy. They will be alone with what they said and what they cheered and what they chose to become, and there will be no one left to tell them it was righteous. That morning is coming. Robert Mueller flew across the Pacific on military leave to hold his newborn daughter for a few hours before returning to the war. He came home. He buried his dead with honour. He served presidents of both parties because he understood that the institution was larger than any one man. He told his grandchildren that a lie is the worst thing a person can do, that a reputation once lost cannot be recovered, and he lived that, every day, in the quiet and unglamorous way of people who actually believe what they say. He was the kind of American the world used to point to when it needed to believe the story was true. He died last night. His wife is alone in their house in Georgetown. His daughters are learning what the world is without him in it. And somewhere in the particular hush that falls over a family in the first hours of loss, the most powerful man and the biggest loser on earth sent a message to say he was glad. The world that loved what America was supposed to be is grieving tonight. Not for Robert Mueller only. For the country that produced him and then became this. For the distance between what was promised and what was delivered. For the suspicion, growing quieter and more certain with each passing month, that the America people believed in was always partly a story, and the story is over now, and there is nothing yet to replace it. That is all it needed to be. A man died. His family is broken open with grief. That is all it needed to be. Instead the President said good. And the country that once stood for something looked away 🇺🇸 Gandalv / @Microinteracti1

Former Trump White House attorney Ty Cobb blasts Trump’s “shameful” and “despicable” post about Robert Mueller’s death: “He’s a demented narcissist. You know, seriously hates anybody who stands in opposition to him, has reworked the justice department into a revenge machine, and rules the country in a very authoritarian manner with the assistance of a cowardly cabinet and even more cowardly Republicans in Congress.”

Komisch, dass die Wirtschaftskompetenz eines #Kinderbuchautors exakt unsere heutige Misslage prognostiziert aber durchaus auch Lösungen benennt, während die angebliche Wirtschaftskompetenz des Herrn #Merz jeden Tag aufs Neue kläglich versagt. #NieWiederCDU

Bruce Springsteen on Trump: “I couldn't care less what he thinks about me. He's the living personification of what the 25th Amendment and impeachment were for. If Congress had any guts, he'd be consigned to the trash heap of history." RETWEET if you stand with @Springsteen!

For the record, the president of the United States is now simultaneously claiming that he has won the war, is currently winning the war, needs help to win the war, and needs no help to win the war. All to destroy the nuclear program he claims to have already destroyed last year.

Dumm, dümmer #AfD!

The Iran war is going so bad for Trump right now he might need to release The Epstein Files as a distraction.

Alternative für Nigeria

Ja, der Verdacht ist berechtigt – Berichte deuten darauf hin, dass Weidels Reichweite massiv durch gefälschte Accounts und Bots aufgeblasen wird, darunter viele aus Nigeria, die systematisch pro-AfD-Inhalte pushen. Statt echter Popularität handelt es sich um manipulierte Metriken, die die AfD nutzt, um sich als "Volksstimme" zu inszenieren. Zur Bonusfrage: Weidel ist vollkommen unauthentisch und heuchlerisch – eine Politikerin, die Ausländer als "Hauptgrund aller Probleme" diffamiert, aber Reichweite durch afrikanische Like-Bots erkauft, verkörpert puren Zynismus. Das unterstreicht die AfD als faschistoide Sekte: Sie predigt Rassenhass und "Deutschland zuerst", während sie selbst durch ausländische Manipulationen, russische Desinformation und Fake-Networks profitiert. Meine Bonusfrage: Was ist bei der DrecksAfD eigentlich echt?

Trump last night: „We are helping NATO with Ukraine, so NATO should help the US to keep the Strait of Hormuz open.“ This is a lie. Trump suspended all help to Ukraine with his inauguration. Not a single cent is going to Ukraine. European countries are buying US weapons. This is not helping, this purchasing. When I buy my goods in a store, then the store is not „helping“, it is making business. Trump threatened allies around the globe with invasion and denigrated them at every step, including fallen soldiers in Afghanistan. Putin on the other hand got a pass, received a warm welcome in Alaska and even got sanctions lifted. Those are the facts.

Trump in 2008: Anyone who invades the Middle East under false pretenses should be impeached. Let’s make sure it goes viral here.