Meryl Streep was saying really important things during her speech at the Golden Globes. It’s so important to stand up against the actual things happening. And it’s not just happening “there”, it’s happening here as well. And not just the Americans are fucked with their new “chosen one”, no, I think we all will be fucked. But thats another chapter of this lifetime.

Meryl Streep’s Golden Globes acceptance speech in full:

“Please sit down. Thank you. I love you all. You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve lost my voice in screaming and lamentation this weekend. And I have lost my mind sometime earlier this year, so I have to read.

Thank you, Hollywood Foreign Press. Just to pick up on what Hugh Laurie said: You and all of us in this room really belong to the most vilified segments in American society right now. Think about it: Hollywood, foreigners and the press.

But who are we, and what is Hollywood anyway? It’s just a bunch of people from other places. I was born and raised and educated in the public schools of New Jersey. Viola was born in a sharecropper’s cabin in South Carolina, came up in Central Falls, Rhode Island; Sarah Paulson was born in Florida, raised by a single mum in Brooklyn. Sarah Jessica Parker was one of seven or eight kids in Ohio. Amy Adams was born in Vicenza, Italy. And Natalie Portman was born in Jerusalem. Where are their birth certificates? And the beautiful Ruth Negga was born in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, raised in London — no, in Ireland I do believe, and she’s here nominated for playing a girl in small-town Virginia.

Ryan Gosling, like all of the nicest people, is Canadian, and Dev Patel was born in Kenya, raised in London, and is here playing an Indian raised in Tasmania. So Hollywood is crawling with outsiders and foreigners. And if we kick them all out you’ll have nothing to watch but football and mixed martial arts, which are not the arts.

They gave me three seconds to say this, so: An actor’s only job is to enter the lives of people who are different from us, and let you feel what that feels like. And there were many, many, many powerful performances this year that did exactly that. Breathtaking, compassionate work.

But there was one performance this year that stunned me. It sank its hooks in my heart. Not because it was good; there was nothing good about it. But it was effective and it did its job. It made its intended audience laugh, and show their teeth. It was that moment when the person asking to sit in the most respected seat in our country imitated a disabled reporter. Someone he outranked in privilege, power and the capacity to fight back. It kind of broke my heart when I saw it, and I still can’t get it out of my head, because it wasn’t in a movie. It was real life. And this instinct to humiliate, when it’s modeled by someone in the public platform, by someone powerful, it filters down into everybody’s life, because it kinda gives permission for other people to do the same thing. Disrespect invites disrespect, violence incites violence. And when the powerful use their position to bully others we all lose. OK, go on with it.

OK, this brings me to the press. We need the principled press to hold power to account, to call him on the carpet for every outrage. That’s why our founders enshrined the press and its freedoms in the Constitution. So I only ask the famously well-heeled Hollywood Foreign Press and all of us in our community to join me in supporting the Committee to Protect Journalists, because we’re gonna need them going forward, and they’ll need us to safeguard the truth.

One more thing: Once, when I was standing around on the set one day, whining about something — you know we were gonna work through supper or the long hours or whatever, Tommy Lee Jones said to me, “Isn’t it such a privilege, Meryl, just to be an actor?” Yeah, it is, and we have to remind each other of the privilege and the responsibility of the act of empathy. We should all be proud of the work Hollywood honours here tonight.

As my friend, the dear departed Princess Leia, said to me once, take your broken heart, make it into art.”


another storm warning…

Während ihr fleißig Bilder von frühlingshaftem Abhängen mit Bier am Hafen, draußen aber auf jeden Fall in der Sonne posted, sitze ich hier eingemummelt, die letzten Auswirkungen einer fiesen Island-Grippe überwindend, in meinem Bett. Ich dachte ja vor anderthalb Wochen: “Ha, die Grippewelle hab ich auch dies Jahr wieder unbeschadet überwunden” und keine 24 Stunden später hat sie mich ich mit hohem Fieber, Schmerzen überall und Schüttelfrost so richtig in die Fresse gehauen. Aber um ehrlich zu sein, gibt es da draußen grad nicht so viel zu verpassen, denn gleich morgen fegt der achtunddrölfzigste Sturm über das Land, diesmal mit Höchstgeschwindigkeiten bis zu 35m/s (126 km/h), bringt wohl auch noch Starkregen mit (huh, mal was neues, denn bisher handelte es sich häufig um Schnee- / Hagelstürme). Da kann einem dann schon mal die Luft wegbleiben (nicht nur sprichwörtlich), wenn man in Windrichtung versucht irgendwo langzulaufen. Der Kühlschrank ist voll, ich kann mich weiterhin fleißig dem isländisch lernen hingeben und mich wiedermal um meinen Musikblog kümmern, der in den letzten Monaten ein wenig vernachlässigt wurde. Nun ambitioniert in englisch und das macht sogar Spaß! Spaß macht es auch, endlich wieder für Musik offen zu sein, wieder mehr hinzuhören, z.B. bei den neuen Alben von Love A und The Slow Show oder beim neuen Video der Antilopen Gang. Liebe sag ich nur!

Auch wenn ihr es nicht glaubt, aber trotz des ganzen Neuschnee / Sturm-Wirrwarrs kann man den Frühling deutlich spüren. Die Vögel flattern und zwitschern wie verrückt in den Bäumen hinterm Haus (hab ich grad Bäume gesagt?), es ist von 7:30 bis 20 Uhr abends hell und die Menschen strahlen so einen Frühlingsgefühlsduft aus. Ich eigentlich auch? Ich glaub schon. Ich kann ihn deutlich spüren, den Wind in meinem Haar, wenn ich im kommenden Sommer mit dem Rad einen Feldweg in den Westfjorden entlangradel. Man darf ja wohl mal träumen dürfen!