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The German Paedo Experiment

Berlin gets its first gay and lesbian day care center

Pedophiles are jubilant as the capital is to get the first gay and lesbian day care center in Germany. Children up to five years old should be taught there what it's like to be gay.

Published: October 3, 2022, 5:06 am

Berlin

“In itself, our concept is the same as that of other daycare centers. The LGBTI* way of life should simply be a little more visible,” said the manager of the planned facility. The German Bild newspaper reported that 60 of the maximum 93 places had already been booked.

In concrete terms, there should be more books in education in which homosexual couples are the protagonists. It should be easier for daycare children to come out as gay, they maintain. Educators must either be part of the LGBT community or present very good knowledge of it. “A couple of parents got in touch whose son likes to wear a dress and hair clips for his birthday,” reported the managing director enthusiastically.

According to the tabloid’s information, the association’s board of directors includes a well-known pedophile sympathizer who in the past has called for the abolition of criminal liability for sex with children and is said to be close to the Greens. In 1994 he published the book Die Lust am Kind. [Lusting after children, ed.] with the subtitle: “Portrait of a Pedophile”, which many considered shocking.

The daycare provider pointed out that the pederast allegedly had nothing to do with the day-to-day business of the daycare center since that would be somewhat “problematic”.

Rüdiger Lautmann is considered a supporter of the legalization of pedophilia: April 1979, Lautmann played a key role in a motion at the Congress of German Sociologists in Berlin that called for Paragraph 176, which criminalized sexual acts on children under the age of 14, to be removed from criminal law.

Lautmann has been named, along with Helmut Kentler and Reinhart Wolff , as a university teacher who, in connection with pedophilia, “unhinderedly conveys pro-perpetrator positions to students and the public“.

According to the taz journalist Nina Apin, he is a member of the pedophile lobby organization Working Group Humane Sexuality. In a position paper from 1988 (updated 1998/99), they advocated for the legalization of sexual contact between adults and children. According to a research project at the University of Göttingen, Lautmann was even a member of the board of trustees taking the position that pederast contacts could be “amicable”.

[freewestmedia.com]

.............................................

Letter from Berlin, NewYorker, July 26, 2021 Issue

The German Experiment That Placed Foster Children with Pedophiles

Rachel Aviv

Two politicians from the Green Party, which has championed the rights of sexual minorities, accused the AfD of manipulating the victims. “What the AfD is trying to do, to instrumentalize this crime for its own purposes, is unacceptable,” a representative said.

Schweer, the AfD adviser, tried to find a lawyer who could advocate for Marco in a civil lawsuit. “I stand up for a friend, the victim of the so-called Kentler experiment,” he wrote in an e-mail to a large Berlin law firm. Marco had already filed a criminal complaint, but the investigation was limited because Henkel had died in 2015. The lead caseworker, who retired after working for the office for more than forty years, exercised his right to remain silent when the police contacted him. The public prosecutor, Norbert Winkler, concluded that Henkel engaged in “serious sexual assaults including regular anal intercourse,” but he could not find evidence that anyone at the office was complicit. The dilemma, he told me, was that whenever suspicions arose the employees at the office “relied on the claims from Mr. Kentler, who was at the time a very renowned person.”

Marco and Sven tried to file civil lawsuits against the state of Berlin and the Tempelhof-Schöneberg district, the location of the youth-welfare office, for breach of official duties. But, under civil law, too much time had passed. The AfD asked an expert to analyze whether the statute of limitations had to apply to this case. Berlin’s education senator, Sandra Scheeres, a member of the Social Democratic Party, wanted to see if Marco and Sven would accept a compensation package rather than pursue a lawsuit that seemed doomed. She believed that the AfD was giving them bad advice, unnecessarily prolonging their attempt to get money. She told me, “I found it quite strange how the AfD worked with the victims—how close their relationship was, and that they gave legal advice to them. Of course, it is O.K. if the AfD draws attention to injustices, but what happened here was uncommon. I’ve never experienced something like it.” (Weiß, the AfD representative, told me, “I would have been surprised if she had said anything nice about us.” He believes there is still a pedophile network in Germany, and that those connected to it “use their political influence to make sure that the network remains under the radar.&rdquo😉

Marco went to visit one of Henkel’s foster sons from the “first generation,” as he put it, to see if he wanted to join his and Sven’s legal efforts. The son, whom I’ll call Samir, lived in Henkel’s house in Brandenburg, where the boys had spent summer vacations. The house, which had only one room, was made from beige bricks and seemed to have been assembled too casually—uneven globs of mortar filled each crack. In photographs from the nineties, the place is a mess: a plastic bag and half-eaten bread lie on the table; outside the house, an old toaster oven, with a badminton birdie lying next to it, rests on a decaying dresser.

Samir, who is fifty-seven and half Algerian, had not had contact with his birth family for more than forty years. He had changed his last name to Henkel, and taken on a new German first name as well. His half sister, who lives in Algeria, told me that she and her sister had tried many times to get in touch with him, to no avail. He was the foster son whose interactions with Henkel sparked a criminal investigation in 1979, when he was fifteen. At the time, a psychologist had given Samir a personality test, and Samir had drawn himself as a fruit tree in winter that “lacks all contact to the nourishing earth.” The psychologist interviewed Henkel, too, and observed that he struggled to hold back his “enormous aggressive impulses” and, through his foster sons, tried to “make up for something that he missed in his own past.”

Marco drove to Henkel’s old property and walked toward the house. Five-foot hedges now surrounded it. The windows were covered with blankets. Marco said, “I wanted to offer him the opportunity to clear things up like I had with Sven, but when I saw that—no, no, no.” Another foster brother, the first to move into Henkel’s home, lived a few miles away, but Marco decided there was no use visiting him, either. He walked back to his car and drove home.

Winkler, the prosecutor, had sent investigators to Samir’s home, and he described it as a “garbage heap.” There was no running water or electricity. There was barely even clear space to walk. Yet one corner of the house was tidy and purposeful. It had been turned into a kind of altar. An urn with Henkel’s ashes was surrounded by fresh flowers.

Henkel had run his foster home for thirty years. When he finally shut it down, in 2003—he hadn’t been assigned a new foster child—Marco was twenty-one. He had nowhere to live. He spent three nights sleeping on benches in the park. With the help of a charity that assists homeless youths, he eventually moved into a subsidized apartment. He sometimes stole from grocery stores. “I didn’t know how the world functioned,” he told me. “I didn’t even know that you need to pay for the electricity that comes out of a socket.” He woke up several times in the middle of the night, a habit from his time caring for Marcel Kramer. But, instead of going into his foster brother’s room, he checked his own body to see, he said, “if everything is still where it should be and that I still exist.” He spent so much time by himself that he had trouble constructing sentences.

Sven lived alone in a small apartment in Berlin, too, but, unlike Marco, he stayed in touch with Henkel. “I always thought I owed the man something,” he told Der Spiegel, in 2017. Marco and Sven lived as they had as adolescents: they spent the day on the computer or watching TV, rarely speaking to anyone. Sven, who has experienced periods of severe depression since he was a child, still lives in what he called a “fortress of solitude,” and he did not want to talk about his past. “I don’t have any more strength,” he told me. “But I can assure you that everything my brother told you about our time in the foster home is one to one—the truth.”

Marco had also existed in a kind of hibernation. But, after five years, he felt as if he were becoming a “monster,” he said. “It didn’t go quite toward criminal actions, but there was a destructiveness, a lack of empathy.” When he was twenty-six, he was on a train in Berlin and noticed three men staring at him. Without making a conscious decision, Marco found himself beating them up. “I should have said, ‘Hey, what are you looking at?’ ” he said. “But, instead, I immediately fought them. I noticed I actually wanted to kill them.” One of the men ended up in the emergency room. Marco realized how much his behavior resembled that of his foster father. “It was a Henkel reaction,” he said. “I was a product. I was turning into the thing he had made.”

Around that time, he was walking on the street when a female photographer complimented his looks and asked if he’d like to do what Marco called “hobby modelling.” He agreed and sat for a series of photographs, adopting a variety of poses: in some pictures, he looks like a chiselled lawyer off to work; in others, he is windswept and preppy. The photographs never led to jobs, but he began hanging out with the photographer and her friends. He compared the experience to being a foreigner in an exotic country and finally meeting people who are willing to teach him the language. “I learned normal ways of interacting,” he said.

The modelling work inspired him to get a haircut, and, at the hair salon, a glamorous woman with a sprightly, cheerful presence, whom I’ll call Emma, trimmed his hair. Marco tends to credit his appearance for the pivotal events of his life: he believes his looks were the reason that Henkel chose him—many of Henkel’s sons had dark hair and eyes—and, twenty years later, the explanation for his first serious relationship. “I was pretty, and she didn’t leave,” he told me, of Emma. He added, only partly joking, “Some women are just really into asshole types, and I was one of those asshole types.”

At first, he was resistant to a relationship, but gradually he found Emma’s devotion persuasive. More than once, she slept outside his apartment door. “I noticed that she really loves me, and that in life there’s probably only one person who comes along who will really fight for you,” he said. He tried to blunt his antisocial impulses by remembering that they were not innate but had been conditioned by his upbringing. “I reprogrammed myself, so to speak,” he said. “I tried to re-raise myself.”

When I visited Marco, in May, he and Emma had just moved from Berlin to a new development on the city’s outskirts that he asked me not to name or describe, because he didn’t want his neighbors to know about his past. He now has two children, and they were playing with Emma in their large back yard. Inside, Marco listened to meditative lounge music and drank water from the largest coffee mug I’ve ever seen. I had the sense that with a different childhood Marco might have aged into a fairly jolly middle-aged man. He was playful and earnest and spoke poetically about his view of the afterlife. He shared his children’s developmental milestones with nuance and pride. In a gust of hospitality, he asked if I wanted Emma to cut my hair, before apologizing profusely and saying that my hair looked just fine.

A few days before my visit, the Berlin Senate had announced that it would commission scholars at the University of Hildesheim, who had published the preliminary report in 2020, to do a follow-up report about pedophile-run foster homes in other parts of Germany. Sandra Scheeres, the senator for education, had apologized to Marco and Sven, and the Senate offered them more than fifty thousand euros—in Germany, where compensation for damages is much lower than it is in the United States, this was seen as a significant amount.

Christoph Schweer, the AfD adviser, had urged Marco and Sven to keep fighting, but Marco couldn’t understand why. “We have gotten our wishes, so there’s no point in further irritating or tyrannizing the Senate,” he told me. But Schweer kept pushing him, Marco said. (Schweer denies this.) “Then I slowly got suspicious. I asked myself, What else should I want? That’s when I got the feeling that the AfD just wants to use me, to play me up. And I said, ‘I don’t want to be a political tool. I don’t want to get pulled into an election campaign.’ ” He dropped his lawsuit and accepted the Senate’s offer. His only remaining goal is that, in the upcoming report, all the names of people involved in carrying out Kentler’s experiment be revealed. (Schweer said that he had been supporting Marco as a “private person,” not on behalf of the AfD. He also told me, “I have new ideas, but for [Marco] it’s over.&rdquo😉

Marco and Emma were getting married at the end of the month, and he didn’t want to think about his past. “I just wanted to end the whole thing, to have this chapter closed,” he said. He planned to take Emma’s last name. He hadn’t spoken with his birth parents or his brother since he was ten, and now he would become nearly untraceable. He had tried to Google his brother once, but he considered the idea of a reunion to be a waste of emotional resources that he could devote to his children. “It wouldn’t bring me anything, anyway,” he said. “The period of being shaped by my mother is over.”

At the end of my visit, Marco’s wedding ring arrived in the mail. Emma shrieked with joy, but Marco held the ring in his hand dispassionately and joked that he had to marry eventually, so he might as well do it now. He disguised his obvious tenderness toward her with a show of indifference that Emma apparently knew not to take seriously. “These are just the deficits that I have,” he said, referring to the lack of emotion. “I’ll get through it. It doesn’t matter.”

Three weeks later, on the eve of his wedding, he e-mailed me. “In an hour around 10 a.m. we will drive to the registry office,” he wrote. “Symbolically, a new life begins.”

After leaving Henkel’s home, Marco had contact with him only two times. The first time, when Marco was in his mid-twenties, Henkel suddenly called. He appeared to have developed some sort of dementia. He asked if Marco had remembered to feed their rabbits.

The next time was in 2015, when Emma was pregnant with their first child. Marco drove to a clinic in Brandenburg where he’d heard that Henkel was in hospice, dying of cancer. Marco opened the door to Henkel’s room. He saw Henkel lying in bed, groaning in pain. He had a long, wizard-like beard and looked to Marco as if he were possessed. Marco gazed at him for less than five seconds, long enough to confirm that he was actually dying. Then he turned around, closed the door, and walked out of the hospital.

After Marco got home, the radio in his kitchen was playing, but he didn’t remember having turned it on. A singer repeated the phrase “I’m sorry.” He felt as if Henkel were trying to get in touch with him. “I became a little bit crazy,” he told me. “I thought Henkel was a ghost who was following me, haunting me. It was definitely him: he was trying to apologize.”

Henkel died the next day. Marco entered a state of grief so fluid and expansive that, for the first time, he cried over the death of his foster brother Marcel Kramer. He had lain in bed with Kramer for an hour after he died, holding a kind of vigil; then he cut off one of Kramer’s curls, so that he’d have something to remember him by. But he had never properly mourned him. Suddenly, “the blockage disappeared,” he said. He realized why he hadn’t left Henkel’s home when he turned eighteen. “I was bound to the family by Marcel Kramer,” he said. “I would have never left him behind.”

A few weeks after Henkel’s death, the sense of being haunted began to recede. “The freedom came slowly,” Marco told me. “It was like a hunger that grows stronger and stronger. I don’t know how to say it, but it was the first time that I figured out that I am living a life with a billion different possibilities. I could have been anything. My inner voice became stronger, my intuition that I don’t have to live my life the way he taught me, that I can keep going.” ♦

[newyorker.com]

Krunoslav 9 Oct 3
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Looks like Berlin wants to reclaim it's status as one of the original 'sin cities', yearning for it's 1920's glory days.

Tom81 Level 8 Oct 3, 2022

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