Prosperity vs culture in Regensburg

I want to understand one thing: how can we, the land of poets and thinkers, be so ignorant of the battle between prosperity and culture? I want to understand even more: When and how did prosperity become the greatest enemy of culture? I thought prosperity was the breeding ground for all culture? I just don’t get it. Someone please explain it to me! Or all of you!

I’ve been a Regensburg resident for 20 years. I never gave a shit about the reputation of having the highest density of pubs in Germany. I just enjoyed life in Regensburg. By day and by night. But now our prosperity is destroying any culture outside the Grand Duchy. The gentrification of Regensburg is turning the former capital of the Holy Roman Empire of German Nations into a central cemetery.

Death begins slowly. When the Kammer, Bavaria and Stali closed in the 90s, nobody gave a damn. Rocky Horror Picture Show was yesterday and Dolby THX was the future. Gloria closes in 2000, laptop and lederhosen, Bavaria integrates everything! To be honest: I thought the same. There were too many cinemas anyway, weren’t there?

… right? I think so again today. Maybe there really were too many cinemas. Back then. Because you only realise their uniqueness today in the age of Cinewixx and Multiplugg. Back then, our cinemas in Regensburg were unique: Gloria der Show, Stali den Kommunisten and even Kammer and Bavaria were the only mainstream cinemas in Regensburg with a right to exist.

Sprung: Cinemas are for dreamers. What are our pubs then? I plead guilty: I’m a barfly. I had the greatest philosophical treatises, chess games, flashes of inspiration, acquaintances and simply the happiest nights in the pubs of my home town. Regensburg is changing, and I’m getting older. In these twenty years of growing older in Regensburg, you would think that fewer pubs would be enough. I go out less. But the precious pubs are dwindling faster than my thirst for life.

Am I being populist now? I don’t care. It pisses me off to no end that prosperity is destroying all alternative culture in Regensburg. Alternative means: culture that exists apart from money. Old pubs. Loud music. Good drinks. Well-worn counters. People who think and look differently and make a city colourful. Big concerts in small places. It’s all over. Helmut? Maybe it wasn’t that far from pub landlord to funeral director. Andi? I feel like the last rat on the Titanic, and the bands have long since stopped playing. Apo? I’m praying for you. Mono? Fuck stereo surround! And one day I’ll even forgive the old film stage for rebuilding the Berlin Wall.

You would think that established structures, stories and, above all, complexity would be held in high regard in a city like ours. But this is not the case. Only what makes money is respected. I have nothing against money. But if only money rules everywhere, then there will be no difference. Not everything was better yesterday, I love it today. But when I see how quickly our wonderful old city is turning into a soulless retort, it makes my hair stand up straighter than Blairwitch Project. How is it possible to be so reckless with our history? I don’t mean 800, I don’t mean 1500, I don’t mean 1930, I mean our history, the last 20 years. Not any more.

Yes, we need new living space. And yes: not only millionaires have a right to affordable housing in this wonderful home of ours! Move to the centre of our old city! To each his own! But what offends me even more than the few riot kids from the surrounding area at night are the new and often very rich residents of Regensburg’s city centre. They like to wear smart hats and call the police once a week because the ventilation system of the double soundproofed Live Stage keeps them from sleeping. The police are always on the side of the pub, but every drop counts.

Anyone who moves into the centre of a city should be aware that a cultural centre is never quiet. It is alive. Life has a sound, and this sound is sometimes quite loud. Even in front of my bedroom, main arterial road, umpfumpf poo and hormone motors. But the sound is always beautiful, because it says: we are alive. If you don’t like the rhythm of life, then don’t dance to it! Move to the country and watch a different rhythm grow quietly! But even there, life will probably be a stinking pile of dung. A cock climbs on it and crows. We live. Here!

Read more:
Preserve the Ostentor petition: Sign here!
Säm’s blog about Ostentor
...and Facebook

There was no time for pictures today due to the deadline. You have some? Bring them on! Comments? Gladly! Here!