So

who is to be blamed

Of late a friend has unwittingly reminded me of Karl May and because of this, something happened. I told him, for after all he is to be blamed:

"I have to pick some little bone, because of this (post) I rewatched Winnetou I and now it's me counting the cost. As a child I certainly rooted for Winnetou, but this time around it is Old Shatterhand. Well, actually I watched with my mouth gaping and marvelled: What the hell is he doing there?! How can you feel and express such hellish delight and lust for life, while somebody with a cleaver is hunting you down and how is somebody able to depict this (quite paradox emotion)? Well thanks a lot anyway."

Once the appeal is there, I have to look deeper into the matter by the way...