I recently heard an interesting story that a greater stretch of Berlin's Kochstrasse was recently renamed after student activist Rudi Dutschke (1940-79). Kochstrasse is well known as the metro stop for Checkpoint Charlie, so the the change is not an obscure one.

Dutschke was a student leader in West Berlin. He was born in the East, but fled the oppression just before the Wall. In West he quickly became a charismatic figure of city's "1968" movement. In April 1968 he was shot thrice by a local redneck on Kurfürstendamm. Dutschke survived, but just barely and with severe brain damage.

The shooter attempted suicide but didn't succeed and was duly jailed. Dutschke and his attacker engaged in correspondence while the latter was in prison. The shooter took his life in 1970. Whether the correspondence lead into any redemption I have no knowledge of.

Dutschke lived for another eleven years. Because of his injuries he had to learn to speak again. He went to Cambridge but was eventually expelled from Britain as an "unwanted alien". He settled in Århus, Denmark and was involved in the foundation of the German Green party just before dying of consequential injuries in 1979.

The new street also meets the Axel-Springer-Strasse, directly at the offices of Springer publishing company. For decades the Springer newspapers and magazines have been seen as reactionary proponents of the German media and were thus spittoons for the left-wing activists and the Red Army Faction, who resorted to violence. Dutschke split from the violent faction (who bombed Springer's Hamburg office in 1972), but nevertheless the renaming of the street was of nuisance to the Springer company.

Together with some CDU representatives and other neighbours, Springer tried to halt the process, but eventually the residents of Kreuzberg went for the memory of Dutschke in a referendum.

Poetic, if twisted justice, that is.

A chance event led me to visit the memorial site in the Bendlerblock. Situated near Tiergarten, the building is famous as the centre of resistance among the military of the Third Reich. The most famous of them was Colonel von Stauffenberg, who planted a bomb to a meeting Hitler was attending.

Director Bryan Singer (The Usual Suspects) is currently shooting a film about the conspiracy – with Tom Cruise starring as Stauffenberg. The city officials have denied Cruise's request to shoot in Bendlerblock and at some other locations. They are at odds with The Church of Scientology figureheaded by Cruise. Berliner Zeitung reported, that the cult leaders regard Germany as the most critical beach-head to Europe. The other front being the Beckhams?

I also ran into the Fuckparade (hence the video above). The beaty street party started in 1997 as an underground alternative to the Love Parade, but is also associated with political activism against state control.

In the wake of G8 summit earlier this summer, the anti-terror enforcement has now invoked Section 129a – a paragraph in the German Criminal Code law dating back to the days of RAF. The paragraph was used to arrest a non-conforming sociologist Andrej H. and three others suspected of "supporting" a left-wing extremist group Militante Gruppe (MG).

Let's see how this mess sorts out. It's been in the regional news, at least. In any case, if accusations are based on such conspirational behaviour like – 'not taking his mobile phone with him to a meeting' or 'having access to libraries which he can use inconspicuously in order to do the research necessary to the drafting of texts of the MG' – it's needless to say, that something profound is in danger here.

If you look for a cigar lounge in Helsinki, you very likely need to go to the Central railway station. Actually it's not so unheard of, Bertolt Brecht went there too. In 1940-41 he fled Nazis to Finland. Before moving on to the countryside, he used to spend time at the station and leisurely ponder on.

His novel "Conversations in Exile" (d. Flüchtlingsgespräche, s. Pakolaiskeskusteluja) takes place here, in the station restaurant. From this book comes the quote "Finns are silent in two languages".

I don't know exactly how the bars and restaurants were arranged in the 40s, but today's aficionado is best off at The Pullman Bar in the east wing. At the door you get greeted by an unusually friendly (Helsinki standards are abysmal) bouncer and stairs lead up to a spacious lounge with a view over the main hall of the station. Wood paneling, leather couches, good choice of whiskies and tobacco products. Behind closed doors is the cabinet of Press Club.

Despite Brechts and cigars, this all still belongs to the commoners' railway station. Next to the east entrance there's a tall wooden door sided by stone men. These statues are symphatetic miniatures of the huge stone men over at the main entrance. They guard the entrance to the private waiting lounge, designated exlusively for the use of the President of the Republic.

In 1940 President Kallio spent here last his moments, waiting for the train to carry him out to retirement. Soon after stepping out to the platform he died from a stroke before the honorary guard, into the arms of Marshal Mannerheim - another president to come. Paasikivi wasn't president yet in 1939, but he made a life's work out of negotiating with Soviet Union. Indeed, the concept of "Moscow train" has a certain aura that strongly resonates with the cabinets and granite walls of the Station.

Kekkonen was the last president with a strong presence at the Station. Straight after his 1960 trip, he called up a meeting with his cabinet in his waiting lounge. That was the last generally known state use of the lounge. In 1961 Kekkonen was already found on Hawaii. Four years later he was spotted in a palm tree in Tunisia. Apparently presidents have gone permanently airborne.