Radically Inconsistent

Summer of Crafts: The Wooden Staff (1)

2010-07-17T02:37:00.000-07:00

So, here's the first post about a series of crafting projects I'm currently doing. First off, my staff.
As you know, I have bought a heavy glow-in-the-dark staff at Keltfest ealier theis year, and have since then fell in love with staff-juggling. However when it comes to events like Keltfest, or -more of current concern- Castlefest, the neon-yellow lining of the juggling staff kind of clash with the mandatory mideaval/pagan/celtic costumes I'll be wearing at these kinds of events.

So, I decided to make a new staff myself! I was going to make one myself, and would be from wood,and encrypted with pyrography, and... and.... and.... Anyway, after dreaming came actually doing it when I a begged an old wooden broomstick of my mom's. I had previously walked through the forest some and decided that the chances of finding a natural stick of at least enough lenght wich was straight enough were really tiny.

Then, there were several ways of making it into a staff.
It needed
a) Decorations
b) Markings to indicate the center, and quarts of the staff
c) weights.

The weights were the most difficult. After some research I found out that the neon-staff I bought was weighted with old inner-tires from bycicles. Although tempted to break apart my bicycle, I waited a week to go to my old hometown and went to the bicycle-repairshop. I asked them for old, useless (leaking) inner tires, and strangely enough, they were not surprised by this request, instead, they were surprised I needed only two (they had about seven or eight to offer me.)

By the way, the black cloth is a secret preview to my second project....

Anyhow, after a *very difficult, mystical and secret process*, I attached the parts together. It then needed decorations and a handle. I could use several methods for it, but eventualy I decided on doing it all through woodburning. Mostly because I simply felt like it ^^

I did several markings. At the ends I wrote to poems in Runic, both by Omnia. (So technically, they're lyrics, but hey, lyrics are poems to!) I'll leave it to those who are able to read runes to figure out what lyrics I used precisely.

So, after this picture whore-fest (pardon the language), I must announce that these pictures are allready out-of-date: After consideration I decided that the weights needed to be attached more firmly and that I didn't like the woodburned handle-markings (they were done a little scewed), so I added emergency measures.
Oh, and I began working on staff #2, this one for Earthlycolours. It's not finished yet, though ;) (updated pics shown below)

In summer, the song sings itself.

2010-06-27T05:02:00.000-07:00

And thus began a blogpost about nothing at all, composed out of sheer cheerfullness. If cheerfull nothingness does not interest you, feel free to stop reading from here. If it does, well, good for you, strange beeing.

My Muse post still lies half-finished on top of the stack of 'unfinished posts', along with the post about keltfest, and about summer '09. Today, a collection of little bits in the beginning of summer '10.

The Reproduction of Cats

First news: our dear little Thijm is not going to have any children anymore. Her beautifull 'eastern' eyes, her shining grey-tiger fur, her absolute loyality, her wise instinct for tactical retreat, will not be passed on to a new generation...
She's going to get 'helped'. (What, did you think she was dead?). The appointment is for coming tuesday, and it will be done quickly. However, it's going to be most troublesome to try and get her to go into the cat-basket so we can take her there.

In the meantime, her cousin and nephew have taken to New Age Rituals in order to get a new play-friend.

Look who's driving

In short news, the day after Thijm's 'adventure', I'll be going to have my own adventure: a driving-test, designed to see wether I'm fit to get my driving license in a so called 'rush-class': instead of having one hour of driving instructions a week, I'll be having two, three or more weeks of full-time driving lessons.
The test is specifically designed to calculate how many weeks I will need.

I will also get the chance to ask some things about the theory-examn, and perhaps even make an appointmet for one.

The General Staff

Remember the last post in wich I spoke about staff-twirling? Well, I kept my promise, because two days after the post, I had finished all the moves except for the last one, which I had somehow forgotten. I learned this one in secret yesterday.
I also wanted to share a video in the same theme, but unfortunately it's in a format I can't embed, so, here's a link. Be sure to watch it.
Apart from the guy's hilarious accent, his own invention, the "Buugeng", is awesome. They are a sort of S-shaped staffs wich can fold up and create awesome visual effects.

De Vensterbank, oh nee, de vensterbank!

Although I'm not a football supporter, on an impuls me and my girlfriend have just painted our windowstill orange. As in, literally, just. In between typing this and typing about my driverslicence.

Lastly: The watermelon.

To celebrate all this, and the beautiful weather, I bought a watermelon. I butchered it myself this morning. Look at the delicious, bloody red inside of the thing....

The Great Vegan Catfood Dilemma (and some juggling too!)

2010-06-14T09:50:00.000-07:00

As you may know, I'm a vegan. Or, actually, an octo-vegetarian. I don't eat meat, I rarely use milk, and since a month or three, I don't eat fish. And I love cats.

(Did that last bit remind you of this as well?)

Anyways, it's pretty clear that cats, by general rule, are not animals devoted to the causes of veganism and vegetarianism. Still, it felt quite silly for me to buy a four kilogram bag of cow for my cats, while not going near the stuff myself.

Being a pescotarian at the time, the solution was simple. Buy the Tuna-flavour. Cause, Fish isn't as bad meat, right? Well, as said, I don't eat fish since a while since realising that although I care decidedly (and hypocritically, I know) less about their wellbeing, they're kind of at the brink of extinction at a lot of places. This week my GF (who has been vegetarian since her 9th) has finally compelled me to change cat-food. Instead of my regular tuna, I bought veal. It's been strange walking around with a bag of meat, but since a vegan lifestyle for cats seems absurd, all rationale points to the fact that this is the least of the two evils.

Any Vegans/Vegetarians out there who can help me with this dilemma?

The next thing about cats: Cats, juggling and me!

This is me, with my devil-sticks. I've had devil sticks for a while now (I think since somewhere between christmas and 2010) and am enjoying practicing with them a lot. For a long time I have been doing it several hours a day on weekdays, and I still practice regularly.

Obviously, the cats weren't really fond of the hobby. A big stick that flies through the air, making noise on other sticks and randomly flying on the ground with high speed (and above all, loud noise)? Not much fun! However, this has slightly changed since the kittens arrived. The little ones grew up from the start with devil-sticks being played dangerously close, -far to close, in fact-, and regard the mortal danger as just another part of life. Not wanting to be less brave than their children/nieces, the older cats have also adopted a less scared attitude towards the activity.

Recently, while on celtfest (where the heroïc picture of me + DS was taken), I purchased a new toy: a Staff. I had to choose between a very light or a very heavy one, and in the end chose the heavy one. Although I'm still not sure, I do think that thanks to the heavy practice I am now quite profficient with light staffs, who, when I get the chance to try them, seem ridiculously easy.

There is one very good tutorial floating around the internet, by an internet user named Imakokode. I'll post it below. Allthough I won't pretend I can do all these moves (I'm still mostly a DS'er), after reading a forum post by a guy who claimed he could do these after one day of practice, I've vowed to put more speed into learning them.

The funny thing is, the cats aren't afraid of this one at all. (mostly due to the NOT falling hard on the ground randomly). In fact, one of the kittens, a small black warior, is extremely drawn to the thing, and seems to feel the need, whenever I twirl staff, to either cuddle up against my feet or throw herself clawsfirst at the end of the staff.
It's a dangerous life, being a cat in house Gwydion.

About those elections, part 2: the musical

2010-06-10T07:49:00.000-07:00

So, basically, today has been about "Post-Election-Music". As this is deffinately to long for twitter, here an overview of my post election-music.

Ofcourse, on number one, as posted in the last link:

When I was still trying to figure it out,

Voodoo & Voodoo Two. When you need Godsmack to describe something, you know it's bad.

Wait.... did I say Godsmack was bad?

For Added Drama

And finally, as the fascist say that people can't get around them anymore, I suggest, we go right through:

There. Just to get it out of my system. That's what blogs are for, right? Or should I just have twittered, again?

About those elections:

2010-06-10T03:35:00.000-07:00

I wasn't going to talk about them, but I point you to this:

http://earthlycolours.blogspot.com/2010/06/this-mornig-hurts.html

Says it al. I completely agree.

Should I have twittered this instead?

What's that I smell a'burning?

2010-06-10T02:14:00.001-07:00

Although I would have liked it to be the Binnenhof in the Hague, or the whole province of Limburg, I'm currently avoiding thinking about last night's elections like a plague -wich is a quite accurate term to describe them, come to think about it- and instead decided to blog about a newfound hobby of mine: Woodburning.

As illustration:

On second thought, no, stuff like the above is not what I do for my own pleasure. Actually, officer, I deny all responsibility for this. And for the burning of the Binnenhof.
No, woodburning does not come from a desire for destruction, rather a desire for decoration.

I had seen the woodburning tool in a local artshop some months ago. It was a relativly simple tool, remarkably similar to a soldering iron. It came with several tips, for lines, writing, dots and surprisingly, for soldering. Somewhere between then and now, my Girlfriend decided she was sick of me staring at the object, and bought it for me. I really must not forget to thank her for that...

On a sidenote, I only now find out that the correct english term is 'pyrography'. Well, with 'pyrography' I wouldn't have been able to post pictures of bushfire, would I? Anyway, I really enjoyed it, and so far have finished one design while working on another.

This one was my first practice, a small wooden box. Unfortunately, it's to small to hold the woodburner itself, so right now it holds my GF's handmade Jewelry ;)

The trouble was that I still had to practice with pressure and temperature. All in all I think it turned out very nice, although I would have made the lines thinner. My second project was a magazine-box wich I am decorating. I began with the same basic principle as the jewelry box (an eight-pointed star), but I cut of the edges. I'm going to do the front and other side as well, but I am still thinking about more difficult designs I could do.

Living large!

2010-01-27T13:35:00.000-08:00

Yes, Comrade is going for the good life! Well, not really luxurious decadency, but a little step closer. He now lives in an old ex-monastry, in a small room with a bathroom attached. He shared this with a roommate, who, although being very cute, also takes up some of the allready scarce room.

Recently, I've recieved a little ray of luck. We've been trying to get an appartement in a certain building for a while now. We didn't try to hard, because this 'cramped small room' we're in now actually is pretty fine, but we were dissappointed never the less when we came in 2nd last week. See, the system is as following: Every week the free rooms and appartements appear on the website, and members of sshn.nl can 'place a voucher' through the site. Everyone can place two vouchers per week. At the end of each week, they calculate how long you've been a member and then give the room to the member who has placed a voucher ánd has had the longest waiting time. For two or three times in a row we came in 2nd, the last of those times actually being a little less of a room then hoped for.

The day after we heard we were second, new rooms were posted on the site. One of them, our dream appartement.

Comrade's got lucky. We came in first, and took it. One problem was rent. We were supposed to get government support on the rent, making the appartment even cheaper then the one room we're in now. However, this is a strange system as well. The gov. support is related to rent. At our age, there is a maximum amount of support you can receive. If, according to rent, you would receive more support then the maximum, you don't just get the maximum allowed, you get none at all.

I can understand that they do not want people renting luxurious appartements and then having way to much support. However, they do not take in account that there's two of us living there. By any logic, the rent should be devided between the two of us, enabeling both of us to get around half of maximum support. However, because they do not take this in account, our dream appartement suddently became a lot more expensive, but luckily we can share the rent, and we're still a little below average rent in this town.

So the question remains? What about this heavenly palace of luxury you call the 'dream appartment'?

Well, it's two-and-a-half room appartement just out of town, surrounded by forest. It's five minutes by bike to her school and about fifteen to mine. It's up on a hill (whatever that may mean, in Dutch terms.) It used to be a monastry, but unlike where we live now, you can't really tell. You enter in the first room, which is the living room. Behind it is a small passageway with a cabinet and cookingstation which passes as 'kitchen'. In this passageway there's a door to the bathroom and the bedroom.

Above a part of the bedroom and the kitchen/bathroom, there's an 'entresol'. I think that means 'between two floors', which sounds quite acurate. It's a sort of second floor, but it is completely open to the living room. Somewhere in this post there should be a map. Or, on second thought, let's provide you with a picture of the monastry back in the fourties!

Anyway, how to turn this into a dream appartement?

Well, I've got a few promises I made myself (didn't tell my roommate yet, in case I can't keep them...) to ensure that the appartement is going to be perfect.

Clean up more regularly. Though simple sounding, this is going to be the hardest of all for me.
Make room for study, and hobby. It relates to the first. Have good place to do this things, not just the little place you've got when you cleared the pile of rubble a little bit.
Discover the forest! We're quite close to nature here, and we're even closer there. We've allways known there were beautiful forests around this city, but we've never taken the time to explore them. I want to explore the area properly, especially the forest surrounding the building
Grow something. Something green. Weather herbs, vegetables, flowers or magic mushrooms for all I care. I want to plant something and make it grow. Preferably both in a pot in the court, ánd free in the forest.
Live green, all over. Hopefully, the thing we plant will be something we can use, so that we don't have to buy that particular item.
Have cats! This one is almost free, since we're going to get two cats from my father. His cat got preggers two times this year, so now he's got five swarming the place. The youngest two will move with us to that place. I want to make them feel at home and watch them grow up.

I think if I manage to manage both my own life, that of a (or multiple) plants, and those of our cats, I've grown up quite a bit, not?

10th of January 1910

2010-01-10T12:05:00.000-08:00

Exactly hundred years ago today, parliament was dissolved in the UK, and elections were held two weeks later. Also, at the same day, Chief Charlo died.

This here is Chief Charlo. He's famous for being a native american, having a father named Chief Victor, and looking good in leather.

However, today is January 10th of 2010. Not much happend, except that Sven Kramer is european champion in ice scating, but I don't care much for Ice Scating anyway.

Lately I have been neglecting this blog. To be more precise, I neglegted this blog since october. Since then, lotsa stuff happened. I can't remember most of it, but there must have happened something in that time.

Well, for one thing I went to Copenhague to protest at the COP15. Do not believe the lies: the protesters were peacefull. The Police acted peacefull at first, but then performed mass-arests, quickly, brutally, and without clear reasons.
So, a quick reminder:

There were 1000 arrests on 200.000 people. This is very little.
These arrested people were innocent: only 13 could be detained longer than one day.
There are reports of police using pepperspray on allready detained protesters. This is a violation of human rights.
The police has a twofold goal with these measures: First, let the outside world think the protesters are criminals, while they are actually not. Second, scare potential new protesters of. Don't Let Them Succeed. If you are a bystander, do not believe the lies. If you are a potential activist, and want to join the next mass-demonstration (be it Mexico 2010, or some other top), by all means do so. Don't let the authorities scare you away.

Maybe I will post a longer review of that weekend, but for now check this, this and this posts by my good companion Dzet, who provides a pretty acurate overview of the events.

I now face three weeks of a much harder, gruelsome challenge: trying to bring this semester at university to a good end. I have two difficult papers to do, and then one test to make. It's near impossible, the work that has yet to be done before I can finish this. At least I know, that I can start completely anew in the next semester, because all classes will be new ones.

Other than that, 2010 is going to be the year in which I revive this blog. (Do I smell a deja-vú?).
It will be fresh, (yo, exiting!) and fertile....

But first, three weeks of hell!

Politicians, Roses and Newspapers

2009-10-07T08:28:00.000-07:00

So hello, I'm Gwy.
As mentioned somewhere earlier (or not, can't remember), I'm a student. Currently I study political science. Before this I did the first year of a History Bachelor, but I quit when my grades where to low to continue to the second year.
Now, when you think field-trips and above mentioned studies, you might guess that it would be more easy to think of field trips for History than for something abstract like Political-Science.

If you did, guess again. I never had a single field trip the whole last year, but last week we went to the regional parliament to get a tour of the building and an interview with a (labour)politician and a (social liberal) civil cervant.There was a debate, but unfortunately it was only a debate about the function of regional parliaments, not about political subjects.
Tomorrow we go to The Hague, to the national Government. We will have a interview/debate with a member of parliament. I myselve will meet with a member of the Socialist Party, a moderately leftwing (however, the most leftwing of the larger parties) party, who unfortunately have started to become more and more centrist and slightly nationalist: Something which leaves me, even though I have been a partymember for years, with enough critiques and questions. An example is about so-called 'double memberschips': There are a few organisations who consisted of people who were far more leftist then the mainline SP, and hoped to get the SP back to their old leftist line. Instead of accepting this as inner-party democracy they have now began banning these 'double members' from the party. And more!

One of these organisations, albeit one that didn't last long inside, because they were to far leftwing of the central party-leadership, are the Internationale Socialisten, the dutch member of the International Socialist Tendency. After long consideration, I've decided to join them. I did this after last week's 'Omsingel de Banken' (surround the banks!) demonstration, where I talked a lot with existing members of this organisation. So, today, I found a nice stack of socialist newspapers in my mail. So, somehow, I'm going to have to sell them before October is over.....
Anyone interested?

On an a-political note, a week ago I bought my girlfriend some roses, but today they were almost wilted, so I made decorations of them!

Cat Business before Barcelona

2009-08-09T07:47:00.001-07:00

I'll be going to Barcelona tomorrow! Whoohee!
A seven day trip, officially, although the bastards ripped me of- kinda.
Day one starts only at about 15.00u, so we'll arrive halfway into day two, and we'll leave day six, although I do not yet know what time. (Probably 12 'o clock, so that we arrive back home at 2 pm, so they can say it's been seven days.... or is that just pessimism?)

Anyway, I'm really looking forward to it. Probaly we'll have 1,5 day at the beach, 2/3 days in Barcelona city and a half day to vist the Dali-museum in Figueres. We stay at a campsite in Blanes, but seeing it's going to be 'klein-holland' there with all the other dutch youths there, we'll try to get away from there as much as possible.... Barcalona! Since I just dit a researchpaper on the Spanish Civil war, I'm just so thrilled to see this place...

But, my dad left for St Petersburg two days ago. He'll follow classes in Russian Language there, and will be gone for two weeks. This means that right now, I'm sitting at my dad's house watching the cats for him together with my gf.

The cats are really lovely: First there were two females, Cleo and Saartje. Unfortunately Cleo ran away, but Saartje wasn't alone for very long: Somehow she managed to get pregnant while being less than a year old! Since then, there are three kittens born: Skyla, Noah and Isis/Henk/Ilias. The 3rd one doesn't have a good name yet, because we named it Isis before we found out it was a boy! Noah and Skyla are girls.

Since the little ones came, we cleaned out the shed and made it their home, because if they stay inside for the complete night, they tend to wreck the place. They're real sweethearts, but unfortunately their mother has become jealous of them. She barely comes home anymore and when we're cuddling both her and any of her kids she becomes very aggressive. It's really sad, and I'm still trying to come up with a way to get them together :(

Well, that's all for the meaningless personal updat, enjoy the summer!

Global Politics in less than 30 seconds!

2009-06-18T15:44:00.001-07:00

A nice video about how global politics are constructed these days: enjoy!

The Sectret Sacred Use of a Belly Button

2009-06-15T15:45:00.000-07:00

Although it's in the middle of the night right now and thus my background investigation might be a little inadequit, I just stumbled on this page.
It's the story of Joanna Harcourt Smith, lover of Thimothy Leary, a 60'ies psychologist, drug-proponent and general icon. He was jailed for possesion of 0.1 grams of weed, and ended up with a sentence of 20 years, in the American system that puts marihuana users right next to murderers like Charles Manson. Here's the full article, enjoy.

"

The Secret Sacred Use of the Belly Button

Joanna Harcourt-Smith

Love cannot be imprisoned. --Timothy Leary, 1969

I always thought my belly button was ugly, it sinks in deep. I have the type of belly button that can swallow up enormous amount of lint. I wanted a belly button that was just a slight scar on my tummy, not a belly button you can sink your finger in. Well my belly button was to come in handy during the time I visited Timothy Leary in prison. He was incarcerated in the bowels Folsom Prison near Sacramento. His cell was below ground in the section reserved for convicted murderers.

Timothy Leary was not a murderer; he had been sentenced to five to ten years for possession of 00.1 grammes of marijuana, to be precise, a roach found in the ashtray of his car. The prison officials were having a field day; they placed Timothy Leary in a cell next to Charles Manson the mastermind behind the Sharon Tate murders.

During my three and a half years visiting Timothy in 23 prisons and jails (he was constantly moved so as to make his prison time harder and more traumatic for both of us), I was to learn that the bureau of prison is staffed with people who spend their time figuring out ways to humiliate prisoners and their visitors.

Almost every time I visited TL in prison, I was stripped and searched, cavities and all, singled out because I was guilty of being in love with "The most dangerous man in America," the one who, according to Richard Nixon, had killed more people than the Vietnam War.

One day while we were exchanging a goodbye kiss at the end of the visit. Timothy whispered in my ear "Bring me some acid."

On the drive back to San Francisco, in the evening after the visit, I began to wonder how I could fulfill his wish without getting caught.

When I woke up the next morning, a fresh idea entered my mind, my belly button was the ideal hiding place for tiny tabs of transparent "Clear Light" acid.

In those days I had a friend who was an acid chemist; each time I saw him he would give me small transparent vials that contained each a thousand tabs of "Clear Light." I carried one of those vials in my purse at all times. Everywhere I went I seeded the L.S.D with people who wanted to try the experience. Once when I was at the bank I seeded the cashier. The following week my favorite bank employee was gone, I imagined she had actually "turned on, tuned in and dropped out" from her boring bank job. I thought of her hanging out in the Height Ashbury, with flowers in her hair, listening to the Jefferson Airplane.

The following week I dressed for the visit, a long black skirt and a red tee shirt. The colors of Tantra, the ancient Indian practice of sexual union.

I carefully placed several peaces of transparent film soaked in Lysergic Acid inside my belly button. This, I thought with a feeling of defiance, is a cavity they will not search.

On the way to Folsom from San Francisco, just as we were driving through the city of Vacaville, I started to feel a slight change of perception. I realized some of the substance in my belly button, aided by pearls of sweat, had seeped through my skin and into my system. The California sky had turned deep blue, the color of the Lapis Lazuli stone. The friend who was driving me knew nothing of my altered state but I now perceived his feelings as clearly as I felt my own. As we passed huge fields of alfalfa, I saw the grass like hair upon the land, and this made me think of my mother. When she did not like my hair color she said I had green hair.

Folsom prison appeared to me like a medieval French dungeon where my prince was held under lock and chain. I wondered how the admission and search would go. Would my amplified fear cause me to do something that would threaten my access to the prison?

Everything went smoothly, that day they did not even bother to strip-search me. I walked down the yard with the other visitors. I felt exhilarated, I was smuggling dangerous drugs into their maximum-security prison. This was a victory over the cruel system that kept my lover away from me. I heard the clunk of heavy metal doors and Timothy appeared dressed in an orange jumpsuit and Adidas shoes. He still had that spring in his in his step that spoke volumes about his indomitable spirit.

We were allowed a hug and a kiss at the beginning of the visit. I had moved two tabs of acid from my navel to my mouth; I had already taken my dose so I gently passed them from my tongue to his. Our eyes met in a deep look of complicity. A strong feeling of anxiety flashed through me. This must be the worst "set and setting" for an acid trip anyone could chose. Love, I felt, would work it's exquisite magic.

" My darling wife," Timothy said. I smiled; this man was everything to me. A few months before, I had anchored my whole existence into him. Leaving my old life in Europe dangling in the distance. The visiting room at Folsom was our world, our bubble of intimacy. We sat together at a small table, and for four hours we imagined we were at a sidewalk café sipping champagne cocktails in the sunshine. The other prisoners, their wives and children, acted like normal families on a Sunday outing. The guards watched closely, making sure there was no illegal touching during the visit.

Timothy's eyes met mine with a great look of tenderness. I could feel he loved me. Even in this dangerous atmosphere I felt protected by his presence. As the full force of the acid began to flood my brain, I cried softly, " I yearn for you, I long for you, get out of here, I need you." Timothy's eyes where soft but the gray of his irises was the color of steel. "Soon, soon I will be with you, we will make a baby together and be lovers forever."

Underneath the table our feet where touching, sometimes the guards turned a blind eye to these games. I felt the passion in his foot climb up my skirt and ravish me as if we where lying in a luscious bed together. An orgasm shook my body, my eyes narrowed with pleasure, like those of a cat purring with ecstasy. Tim's eyes were locked into mine. We were both travelling on a moonbeam shining on a silver spider's web. There was no more prison, no more freedom to be given or taken away. We were inside each other outside of time and space. Tim whispered, "Come into me deeper, deeper."

I let myself slide into the endless abyss of his being as he opened his heart to me like no one had done before. I was a newborn baby lost in the gaze of the mother, undifferentiated and totally blissful. I could not talk but I could love beyond love, beyond any sense of separation. Timothy guided us on this extraordinary escape from prison, like Houdini breaking away from his chains, he was free and we were together beyond the restraints of human laws.

I heard the guard announce the end of the visit "Five minutes before termination."

Finally we could embrace each other. Timothy said "We will be together again next week, I will write you every day." We held each other, I felt his warm breath on my lips, his body was strong from the hours of yoga he practiced in his cell. Every atom of my body docked onto his .

Then he skipped out the door and into the belly of the dungeon.

I felt like I was waking from a dream, the story of the last few hours disappearing into a fog inside my brain. I walked towards the gate of the prison sad and elated at the same time."

Thank you, Joanna.

Seat 26 - The European Elections

2009-06-12T00:35:00.000-07:00

This month saw the 2009 elections for the European Parliament. Between Wednesday the 3rd and Sunday the 7th, the nations of the European Union went out to vote. My country, the Netherlands, voted on Thursday the Fourth of June, the same day Obama made his speech reaching out the Arabic world.

In Europe, however, there was no reaching out to the Arabic world. Nationalists and racists wherecampaigning in a lot of countries and the polls, the polls predicted mayor gains for them. In Brittainit was the BNP, here in the Netherlands it's the PVV, or "Party for Freedom", although the acuricythis name can be questioned. They were predicted to win heavy, with a campaign that was not only anti-europe and anti-immigrant, but specifically a mud-throwing contest at the current governement.

I myself have been a member of the left wing Socialist Party for quite a few years, even though I'm still quite young. But this was the real shock of this elections. The SP has allways been anti-nato, and against the Lisbon-treaty, so it was no surprise that they were Euro-sceptic. But they took it far. They became as blindly anti-europe and threw as much mud as the PVV, and I could even have sworn that some of the remarks made in debates and interviews sounded even very anti-immigrant. It became so bad, that even the campaign-head of the right-wing laisse-faire capitalists VVD said: "When I was young, socialists went on and on about 'International Solidarity', what's suddently happened to that?"

Mr. Van Baalen: He may be a pig, but he was right.

That said, it became clear that I couldn't vote for my own party anymore. (In retrospect I am glad, because I heard they now support a Christian who wants to ban Gay teachers, what has happened to my party?). Instead, I voted on the Greens. They where a bit to much pro-Europe, but when it came to blindly pro and blindly anti, I chose the less of the two evils. I am glad to report that the party went from 2 to 3 seats.

You see, the Netherlands has 25 seats in the EP. With the ratification of a new law, however, this will become 26 seats. Last time both the Christian-Dems (CDA) and the labourparty (PvdA) had 7 seats, the VVD had 4, the greens and the socialist 2, the Lib-Dems 1 and the nationalist didn't compete. This time there were small victories for the Lib-dems and the greens, a small loss for the VVD. The CDA however fell back to 5 seats, and the labourparty fell back to just three seats!
Well, who fills up all this space? Yes, you are correct: the Nationalists. They got four seats, and became the 2nd largest party in the Netherlands.

The problem comes with the 26th seat. You'd think the governement would have regulated how this seat was to be assigned. But they didn't. So now, after the elections, they're debating in parliament who should get the last seat. Basicly, there are two parties competing. We have a Animal Rights Party (PvdD), who won mayorly as well. With 25 seats to split between members, the required votes for a seat is 4%. This party however got 3.9% of the votes. With 26 seats the split, the required votes for one seat would be 3.84% of the votes, meaning democratically the animal-rights-party would get 1 seat. It all seams logical.

Marianne Thieme, Animal Rights Party

Except that the Labour party doesn't agree. They have proposed a system in which only parties that allready have a seat in the 25 can be allocated the 26th seat. Now guess, who would get the 26th seat in that case? No, not the labourparty themselves. The Racistparty. Which would give them five seats, and thus make them as big as the CDA and thus shared the title of biggest party of the Netherlands.

Now what is the logic in a ruling like that, and specifically why would the labour party which is supposed to be on the left side suggest a ruling that would win a seat for an extremely rightwing party over a leftwing party? The worst news is, in all probability the bill has been passed, and seriously, we Dutch people are screwed.

Back in history we were famous for our tollerance. And even though nationalist and racist parties have won big in all of Europe, nowhere as big as in the Netherlands. Right now, Europeans look at us, scratch their heads and wonder why a such a racist and intollerant nation has a place in the union. And you know what, with elections like these?

I feel we deserved our new reputation.

Pinkpop goes fourty!

2009-06-02T11:38:00.000-07:00

Goodbye Pinkpop 2009
Pinkpop has throughout the years featured acts ranging from Rage Against the Machine, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Joe Jackson, Pearl Jam, Beck, Metallica, Alanis Morissette, UB40, Oasis, Muse and the majority of major artists these last decades. This year, the stage was shared by, amongst others, Keane, the Kooks, Amy McDonald, Chris Cornell, Anouk, Snow Patrol and Bruce 'the Boss' Springsteen, to celibrate the festival's fourthieth birthday. I was there.

Pitching up a tent
The daze began Saturday 30th of may, 2009. I picked up my bags and left for my girlfriend. After arriving, we began rearanging our bags (we only got 2 hands and 2 shoulders each, so we have to set priorities...), do some last minute grocery shopping we're off to Landgraaf, where Pinkpop is located. We arrive at about 11.20 at Heerlen Railway Station (which is renamed Heerlen Radio Station for the event, for some reason), and then at 11.30 we exit the very, very crowded shuttle at Landgraaf Station. After some walking and searching, we finally found a place to camp: Right next to the Disco Tent. Who needs sleep anyway?

Saturday: The Killers and Chris Cornell
The saturday kicked off great immedeately. Opening act was 'De Staat', an upcoming Dutch band, also playing on Sziget this summer. I didn't really pay much attention, because there was Chris Cornell: the singer who is known for his part in both Audioslave and Soundgarden. Although my musical knowledge failed to provide this information untill my girlfriend told me so two minutes before the show, the show really Rocked. Possibly, this first performance I saw this year, was also the biggest discovery for me personally.
Chris Cornell with Soundgarden: (Btw, I just found out that the song 'Scream', which sounded totally awesome live with a hardrock band, actually really sucks on the studio version....)
Also the killers where great. To my own surprise I knew more of their songs then I thought, and they gave a good show. They played many of their great hits, but unfortunately that included the song 'Human' as well. (Just a personaly preference, I don't really like that song)

And then there's the Boss
Ever heard a 'Chuck Norris Fact'? Well let me tell you this: Bruce Springsteen doesn't know about Chuck Norris Facts: Chuck Norris merely tries to meet the standard of Bruce Springsteen.
Seriously though: every definition of awesome should be measure by the Standard of Bruce Springsteen. Although frankly, that is quite a harsh standard. If not his music, Springsteen's attitude was mind-blowing. Where usually artists of his calibre have 7m of security, he fucking walked into the crowd. He held the hand of a single girl for the duration of almost a complete song, he sang together with the cutest litle child possible, after someone 'crowdsurfed' a giant stuffed animal onto the first few rows, he collected it and gave it to a second little child, and at the end of the show he even invited a girl holding a sign reading 'Dutch Courtney Cox' to dance with him on stage. Yes, the boss rocked.

Sunday: Caffeïne and Plastic cups, the day Depeche Mode didn't came.
Yes, it's true. A musical festival like this, especially in a place like the Netherlands, is usually filled with Beer and Weed. Although Pinkpop is not by far an exception to this, a different addiction haunted my blood: Caffeine. Turns out on a hot and tiresome day, one can combine refreshment, taste and energy into one drink: Iced Cappocino. Luckily, they sold cans of the stuff on the festival ground, at a not quite modest price. However, by trading in collected untrampled plastic cups, you could earn youselve drink-coins, and honestly, when you're really pumped up on caffeine, what's more fun than hunting for cups on a field with 60.000 people (actually it was more picking up a few where you went, rather than hunting, but with that many people, you quickly gathered a fortune, and hey, I'm a student, I need the money.) Musically, the day was quite bland. Although Krezip, Placebo and Keane each gave great shows, they are just sandwiched between The Boss and the combined awesomeness of the next day. No, I stand corrected. I really want everybody to listen to this guy: Milow is a Belgian Singer/songwriter with enormous talent. He got famous with his bet to turn 'Ayo Technology' into a listenable song (which somehow, he succeded), but he has many more, really beautifull songs.

Monday: More Bands, More Coffee!
The next day was filled with great bands. Amy McDonald was absolutely fine. She had allready performed on Pinkpop last year, but had arrived on set an hour late. The lady was really sorry about that, and this year she more than made up for it. I found one technical mistake: she died her hair blond!
Other bands that day, like Billy Talent, Franz Ferdinant, Novastar and the Kooks where fun entertainement, but the real musical miracle on the mainstage was Anouk. She's quite famous in the Netherlands, but after monday's show I'm convinced she should be quite famous everywhere. Not only is she the only woman alive who can dress-up like American Trailer trash and get away with it, she and her band gave such a great show that it could have justifiably been a headline on it's own (for example, intead of Depeche Mode (A) ). Another interesting fact is that her whole band consists of painfully young musicians, who she tours with to give them a chance to start a career in music - and because they're just fucking good. (Actually footage of the actual performance!)
And then the grand finale, the last act, monday evening.... Snow Patrol! And guess who was right in front of the stage? That's correct, Comrade and his Girlfriend. At first I did not think much of the band - they were okay, but do all these girls have to put 'Crack the Shutters' on an infinite loop? But let me tell you one thing: If you are right in front of that stage, while those Glasgow guys give all they've got, while the lights and animations on the background fascinate 65.000 people, who all at once spontaniously fill in for the singer in the song 'Shut your eyes', it's simply dazzling. For me, but also for the lead singer: 65.000 people stealing his line before he could even say the chlichéd "and now you sing!" left him to stand there enjoying himself and giggling like a little girl. It was absolutely great!

Happy Birthday Pinkpop
After the last act was done, it was time for the mandatory speech by the festival organizer - Jan Smeets. But this time it was a special speech: Pinkpop had just seen it's 40th edition. The man couldn't stop thanking all the artists and volounteers, organisations and crew. He announced furthermore that the festival had sold out - again. This meant he would keep his promise of building sixteen greenhouses for poor schools in Bolivia. The various charities on the ground (most prominently Oxfam Novib and Amnesty International) had raised record amounts of signatures. And the most beautifull thing was seeing how moved the man was: he was barely able to keep down his tears in front of these sixtyfivethousand onlookers. He earned it that when he turned to go back backstage, all those people started singing:

"Jantje bedankt!" or "Thank you Jan!"

We ment it.

A new view

2009-05-24T14:50:00.001-07:00

I begin this blog whilst stepping over a threshold. For a long time this blog has been laying on a dusty shelve, with a wish but without inspiration to turn it into something real. Today, I've finally began typing up my first post, but first this little 'heads-up'.

It's something I hope to do more the next few months: Stop pondering and start doing. Firstly, I'm going to start writing again. As a kid I had a reputation of being a reasonably talented writer, but lately I haven't written a thing. Also, I'm going to explore other hobbies. Not just explore the possibility of hobbies, but actually going and doing stuff. This might mean beginning art projects, perhaps turning my political ideals into public actions, perhaps historical renactment, it might mean playing poi, I might even pick up my old guitar or a new instrument again.

But except for vague resolutions, there's a more concrete, inevitable change coming: Tomorrow I'm going to sign a contract, officially giving me and my girlfriend a new appartement. Right now I live in a dorm. The people a friendly, especially at 3 in the morning, so that's no problem. The problem is that these people vaguely resemble myself, in that they don't clean up after themselves too much. This means the place is a fucking mess. I cook on an electric stove in my room, because I just can't stand the shared kitchen. (Go figure: 16 students sharing 1 kitchen)

Another thing is room: My girlfriend has been sort of living with me the past two months, and the damn thing is just to small. Although the new appartement isn't much bigger (23 m2), it's a giant leap in the right direction. Plus, the new one has private shower and toilets, and I only have to share the kitchen with five others. More pictures and info will follow soon!

So, here's a little incoherent bunch of text, a nice introduction to the public, me thinks!