And the smoke from the fire is still rising

For years it's been creeping up on us, not by loony right-wing landslide wins, but the inch-by-inch but nevertheless solid shift from left to center, where even treehuggers who should look under every stone for any and all solution to this troubled Earth's problems cling to one Holy Writ and proclaim all other freethinkers heretics. Too much energy spent on climbing up to the next level, instead of pulling others less fortunate up to ours.

1984 and other horrendous mirrors were all the buzz last decade (another decade already? oh, how time flies!), and we've had a good laugh and patted ourselves on the back: look, with such messages abound in our culture we've staved off the dangers for sure.

But all the time it's been creeping, lads, not in our faces like 1984, but inch-by-inch like it always goes. And one day we'll wake up to find ourselves arrived at that next level, staring out our window at the "blessed" Morec spire and gathering each morning at the apartment block's warden unit to submit to the routine social check government demands of us. Are our shoes neat and shiny? Do we make enough money to live where we live? Do we toe the government's line?

Inch-by-inch, is that how the 80s happened? Reign of fear and apathy, rule of propriety and hypocrite cleanliness? Then where are those who'd protect our rights, every thing our ancestors obtained, remind those idiots of their promises, hold them to the law? I search the left for signs of renewal, but only find career opportunists, nobody willing to rock the boat.

I live in a little peanut country not exempt from riots, on that line where businesses seek cheap rent only to poke their leased C300s in the faces of families of at least 5 trying to survive on 2 paychecks (and lo and behold they are surprised when they get mugged and need to hire bodyguards!). I look out from this little peanut country into the world and hope people so hurt by the system, so insulted by the unabashed flaunting of riches*, find the energy not only to lift a brick from the pavement, but in the end to be the source of something new, a left to the left-which-is-now-center. Doubt we'll find many Caucasian faces amongst them, but that's okay. You don't need to be pasty-faced to jape, to blow up Parliament.

And look it has already begun...


*as if all bling comes with the guarantee of invulnerability and unstealability. When exactly did Modesty crawl into the corner of the room to die?

P.S.: Did you see that lot, how the other flinched but spoke no less honest of the flatscreens he pinched; did you see how he timidly glanced at his 16-year-old fellow who pinched nappies and a whole set of Johnson's for his kid? Ha, and they say there's no honour among thieves. In all that violence and destruction, all the yelling of pro and con, of Law please protect our Greed, of opportunists grabbing a quick buck (what and we don't cheat the hell out of taxes?), of bricks flying from one side to the other's glass house, there at least one blinding flash of sense: she lives and breathes yet, Modesty, hoorah!

I grow up and drag along in my suitcase...

With all the Is A Crisis, Is Not A Crisis* going on in Belgium the last couple of months, I figured it must be a really strange country young Belgians live in. Literally all of their life they've been seeing politicians shout and behave like adolescent shitheads or have talks that seem to go nowhere about things only politicians comprehend. They grow up in a Belgium where politicians continually polarize any problem in the country into something from one or the other side of the language barrier.

* sung on the melody of Soul Coughing's Is Chicago, Is Not Chicago

That train of thought got me thinking about what subjects from Belgium or international politics pierced the shell of my oblivious childhood years to leave a lasting influence on my then naive, nay, unformed view on the world outside.

World politics were incomprehensible. Absolutely. Bernard Benson's Peacebook offered a solution quite as simple as letting a little boy ask why big mean old people don't kiss and make up and then have them realize the kid is right. Can I have a collective "Awww that's so kewt"

And while harbouring that Peacebook dream all warm and fuzzy inside, I notice people digging out nuclear shelters in their backyards, even in little old Belgium. Mad Max beyond Thunderdome (1985) only fuels the easily titillated imagination of a child: this is what the end of the world looks like!

Then, 1986, cherry on the pie: spending lunchbreaks at school looking at the sky to see if you can see the poisonous cloud that's blowing in from Chernobyl.
Wait for the icing on this childhood's cake, darling digiblips: SEEING WHEN THE WIND BLOWS DOES NOT HELP OKAY??!!

Damn the world was a scary place back then!
But it did prepare me for whatever shit the world throws me now, from tsunamis in faraway countries to global warming and being an actual jinx for England whenever I visit (terrorist attacks, major strikes), to the End of Belgium. Nothing short of the true Apocalypse can rattle my cage, heh.

On the smaller--Belgian--scale, politics were zzzzzz boring, and televised debates were a contest in conservative fashions and nasal mumblings.
Nonetheless there was some scary shit going on!

Scariest mofos from childhood are the Nijvel Gang/Brabant Massacres, brutal gangsters active from 1982 to 1985, killing, torturing and plundering whatever they came across. The news speaks of pursuits and shootouts with police but on television it still looks like a contest in conservative fashions and nasal mumblings instead of CHIPS. The only exciting piece is the getaway car: a white Golf GTI. Suddenly, EVERYBODY wants a GTI. Dude, the cops can't catch up!

Then there's the very confusing (for kiddies) terrorism of the Cellules Communistes Combattantes, CCC in short. They were EVIL, I mean communist, bombs, links to all those other and certainly more deadly redski terrorists like Rote Armee Fraktion and Action Directe. But let's be honest: if you're turning in your own bombs, and giving the public services enough time to clear the area, you're way nicer than the *real* European terrorists. In the end the only deaths involving a CCC bombing occurred after an error in communication between public services, and this error may or may not have been deliberate, given the unexplained issues that surround both cases.

Good horror only functions if some of it is unresolved and left to fester.
Growing out of '80s childhood I find myself nearly trapped in that nightmare scene from American Werewolf in London: with the Gulf War the Mad Max reality can't be far behind, Chernobyl is on fire, and
legal prying and journalist investigations into unexplained issue and mysteries surrounding the CCC as well as the Nijvel Gang offer links with US stay-behind politics against communist influence. This brings the idea home of what a Cold WAR means. Nothing can be proven, though; it's all out there in the same fuzzball as Gladio, P2 and the fuzzpluzz which may or may not be named Echelon.


All in all, I guess my cold-hearted, cool-headed and sometimes acidly sarcastic worldview is not a surprise after all. Seeing all the truths and lies and love&rockets going on on my TV screen, I wonder what the world will look like to them kids when they're all grown up...

The return of the not so thin white duchess

Here I am, back from France, head still reeling with the impossibly complicated history of Europe, with a gazillion pictures to sort out. History is written by the victor, and then rewritten and rewritten some more. So if you do go to the region, a bit of historical background certainly helps to put things into perspective. It also helps you to avoid sounding like a total idiot; actually  overheard in one castle:
"Well, they certainly have a lot of things from Brussels and Flanders here"
"Didn't I read somewhere that the owner of the castle Belgian?"
Ack! We're talking about a period long before Belgium existed, I mean, hello, France wasn't France yet!

But anyways, history is just a big noodle puzzle of facts and you can twist the story any way you want it. Just to give some impression of the noodles: there's this large part in European history where the king of France had the Île-de-France (part of modern day Paris, and mightier persons (Duke of Orléans and Maximilian of Austria) had all the rest. Some of these mightier men also had England, like one of the most beloved kings of England (if the Robin Hood story is to be believed): Richard the Lionheart. But if you look at the facts (king of England from 1189 to 1199, hadn't set foot in England yet by 1194) it's easy to see why he would be beloved: what's better than to have a king who doesn't meddle in local affairs!


It was good fun, informative, thought-provoking, and I had plenty of good ideas even if I didn't do one jot of writing. Ha. And now for some fencing!

Do digiblips dream of electric trees?

I'm in ignomode, because I've got special visitors and special things to do this week, so I'm ignoring the digiworld. Just quickly checked the feeddemon, and the feeddemon has simply too much feed after five days. 100+ posts? There's no chance in hell I'm ever going to read all that (if it were real feed I'd be supersized in no time!).
It's also on moments like this I realize that only a very small amount I read actually makes some sense--to say it disrespectfully, most of it is just a waste of digital paper, which is okay until you think about the poor people out there that have to grow all the digital trees from which to make this paper.
You laugh, madam? Do I hear you chuckle, sir?
Well, think about it. The intarweb doesn't exist out of thin air, not really. Whatever we do, our whole online digiblippery needs real world silicon chippery to exist. And while intarwaste might be infinitely more easier to recycle, you still have to wonder about that whoopee let's fill all this free space with crap because it's okay mentality (and yes, I'm just as guilty). I wonder how many more servers are put online each year because we write too much online crap and the intarweb just grows and grows and grows?
Even if they start making servers from wood and other natural resources, a little historical sense and perspective should caution us for this mentality. After all, burning oil and rubber didn't hurt anybody either in the early days (or so they thought time and again), and progress never starts out as industrial and financial malicious intent. But by the time we realize we've put ourselves on the same list as other (over)specialized animals, we can't easily go back and extract the progress from the industry that feeds us and the finances that take care of us in our old age.
And, you know, who's to say that within a century we won't find out that filling digiworld with crap has a disastrous effect on nature or our own chances of survival? It's never the thing you expect that gets you in the end.

Marcus knows best

Some thoughts on boycotts for Gaza

What annoys me is that boycotting was so much easier in the Apartheid days, perhaps because it had an easy name. Perhaps we need some marketing dudes to get their asses on this.

Now, recently there has been a spade of cultural boycotts (since boycotting Israeli product most likely will only add to the suffering of those few Palestinians who still have the permit to work outside their "borders" ^(*), naming a few:

• Israelis won't be reading new Iain Banks material in Hebrew: but wouldn't taking steps to actually making sure no titles in whatever language are sold in Israel be more productive as boycott? Won't they just buy English? Unless of course he's planning another Feersum Endjinn
• Flocks of artists have canceled concerts in Israel, amongst others, Gorillaz (wtf? is this the man that tried to get music fans' conscience back on tracks during the acceptance of Gorillaz's first MTV award in 2001?) and and The Pixies (whose ethics apparently need a bit of blood before action is called for).

Then there is Elvis Costello, who was well ahead the game when he canceled his dates.

All in all, who am I to criticise? Every good deed done is one good deed done. All you can do in the crazy muppet show the world is, is stand your own ground, friendly and without arrogance, understanding full well that a man is worth as much as his deeds ⁽²⁾.


Belgian elections
Don't do it if it's not fitting, don't say it if it isn't true. Always keep your own purpose and resolution free from compulsion and necessity. Consider the true nature of everything you see and hear, dissect it in cause, matter, meaning and intent, and ponder upon its expiration date. ⁽³⁾⁽⁴⁾

So, Sunday is the big day. I've looked at party statements, and am saddened by the absence of real important stuff. Comparing statements of (verbal) communications is sometimes clearer: CD&V (Flemish Christian democrats, never get my vote FYI) talk about keeping retirement pay manageable, SPa (Flemish socialists) talk about having worthwhile retirement pay. It's the little stuff like that that makes the difference.

But after studying all the talking heads, I must conclude that I'll stick with the socialists this time, even if I'm greatly vexed that they're more concerned about making life a breeze for mums and children (hello baby-boom? Is that really what we need? Again? Isn't that exactly the cause of the current retirement pay problem?) instead of real structural changes. Like most parties--left, center or right--they have become terribly complacent. I agree with Peter Singer on this: the left hasn't really evolved since the 19th century, unlike then ideas of the right. Perhaps I should buy a box full of copies of his on a Darwinian Left and send them to lefty parties for free. It will be too late for this election, but it is never too late to change the world.


Wildheit @ Psychoshop
So the site is somewhattish back on its feet a bit, and this time I've made sure the SQL database gets automatically backed up. Murphy proof! Or so I hope.

There was this stuff I wanted to add to the site but I got completely lost in my terribly well-organised bookmarks ==> procrastination of the worst kind!

One cool design aid link: Online Color Scheme Designer

But all that getting lost in digiland made me think of what some smart ancient dude⁽¹⁾ once said (or hath sayeth or something):

Be not deceived; for thou shalt never live to read thy moral commentaries, nor the acts of the famous Romans and Grecians; nor those excerpts from several books; all which thou hadst provided and laid up for thyself against thine old age. Hasten therefore to an end, and giving over all vain hopes, help thyself in time if thou carest for thyself, as thou oughtest to do.
~ Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book III.14

So there, Marcus knows best, and I'm off to continuing some work. It will be hard, because as my recent false starts with the new books I bought prove: Cow Watcher is working on SF, so I can't read SF. So I guess I better find something fantasy amongst my projects that needs working on in the mean time...


^(*) bracketed because the Israelis don't seem to grasp the definition of "border": when its between them and the Palestinians its their border, if its between the Palestinians and the world it is their border (and not the Palestinians). That's like agreeing to the border between Belgium and France, but saying Belgium has a right to intervene on France's border with Spain, because it's our border too. Plus: agreeing on a border is agreeing to stop changing it.
⁽¹⁾ intentional use of ignoramus phrasing
⁽²⁾ a rephrasing of: Public shows and solemnities with much pomp and vanity, stage plays, flocks and herds; conflicts and con tentions: a bone thrown to a company of hungry curs; a bait for greedy fishes; the painfulness, and continual burden-bearing of wretched ants, the running to and fro of terrified mice: little puppets drawn up and down with wires and nerves: these be the objects of the world. among all these thou must stand steadfast, meekly affected, and free from all manner of indignation; with this right ratiocination and apprehension; that as the worth is of those things which a man doth affect, so is in very deed every man's worth more or less ~Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book VII.3
⁽³⁾ a rephrasing of: If it be not fitting, do it not. If it be not true, speak it not. Ever maintain thine own purpose and resolution free from all compulsion and necessity. ~Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book XII.13
⁽⁴⁾ a rephrasing of: Of everything that presents itself unto thee, to consider what the true nature of it is, and to unfold it, as it were, by dividing it into that which is formal : that which is material: the true use or end of it, and the just time that it is appointed to last. ~Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book XII.14

Politics

Some remarks on the usual, rather hallucinant Israeli rhetoric:


1) the soldiers were unarmed and nearly barefooted. The poor shmucks always end up getting spat at, clubbed, knifed, stoned,... It is so not fair. They come in peace and see what you get for your troubles.
2) saying "not armed" and saying "armed with non-lethal weapons" is not the same thing. Not ever.This is one of those instances that words do matter.

3) soldiers have a dangerous job, they must be kept safe. AT ANY COST. I mean, we're talking LIVES here.

But what we silly Westerners should read between those lines is: please stop sending aid. We don't want the Palestinians to suffer. But if you keep feeding and healing and helping them, shucks man, it's going to take for ever!


Closer to home: 12 days until elections. 12 days to make up my mind. Flipping Flemish nationalist are going to win anyway, because I am surrounded by morons.