Cogs can think.

You know you live in a totalitarian regime the moment your government decides which photos and videos of acts commited by its soldiers inside a prison carrying POWs can be seen by the audience (more by Forbes).

A great deal of respect to the ACLU for forcing the Pantagon to release these new photos and videos. The world needs to know that the US itself is one of the biggest terorrist states of the world. Click on the above links, American citizens, and see what your government is responsible for, and what they are trying to hide from you.

It’s a shame the government of the United States uses ordinary soldiers as scapegoats. The US government can do nothing but resign. But they won’t.

Update: She did it! Marianne Timmer won the gold medal on the women’s 1000 metres! And thus the Dutch women are giving us where the men were expected to! I’m so filled with joy! She beat al the big names; Zhurova, Anni Friesinger, Rodriguez, Klassen! Oh my god!

I never expected this!

—

The women’s 1000 metres is about to begin– and let me state for the record that if no Dutch woman will win, I want Svetlana Zhurova to win. She already took the gold on the 500 metres. She’s 34 years old, and a mother. She made an astonishing comeback this season.

My favourite quote of her’s?

I’m very much mamma!

She’s sweetness abound :).

3rd February was The Day The Music Died– I always thought it was 3rd March. A little late, but this obviously calls for a reprint of the entire set of lyrics of Don McLean’s (Roy Orbison on McLean: “the voice of the century”) “American Pie” (so not the raped version by Madonna). Have fun determining the song’s meanings!

A long, long time ago…
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And, maybe, they’d be happy for a while.

But february made me shiver
With every paper I’d deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep;
I couldn’t take one more step.

I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride,
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died.

So bye-bye, miss american pie.
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, “this’ll be the day that I die.
“this’ll be the day that I die.”

Did you write the book of love,
And do you have faith in God above,
If the Bible tells you so?
Do you believe in rock ’n roll,
Can music save your mortal soul,
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Well, I know that you’re in love with him
`cause I saw you dancin’ in the gym.
You both kicked off your shoes.
Man, I dig those rhythm and blues.

I was a lonely teenage broncin’ buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died.

I started singin’,
“bye-bye, miss american pie.”
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, “this’ll be the day that I die.
“this’ll be the day that I die.”

Now for ten years we’ve been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rollin’ stone,
But that’s not how it used to be.
When the jester sang for the king and queen,
In a coat he borrowed from james dean
And a voice that came from you and me,

Oh, and while the king was looking down,
The jester stole his thorny crown.
The courtroom was adjourned;
No verdict was returned.
And while lennon read a book of marx,
The quartet practiced in the park,
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the music died.

We were singing,
“bye-bye, miss american pie.”
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, “this’ll be the day that I die.
“this’ll be the day that I die.”

Helter skelter in a summer swelter.
The birds flew off with a fallout shelter,
Eight miles high and falling fast.
It landed foul on the grass.
The players tried for a forward pass,
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast.

Now the half-time air was sweet perfume
While the sergeants played a marching tune.
We all got up to dance,
Oh, but we never got the chance!
`cause the players tried to take the field;
The marching band refused to yield.
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the music died?

We started singing,
“bye-bye, miss american pie.”
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, “this’ll be the day that I die.
“this’ll be the day that I die.”

Oh, and there we were all in one place,
A generation lost in space
With no time left to start again.
So come on: jack be nimble, jack be quick!
Jack flash sat on a candlestick
Cause fire is the devil’s only friend.

Oh, and as I watched him on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage.
No angel born in hell
Could break that satan’s spell.
And as the flames climbed high into the night
To light the sacrificial rite,
I saw satan laughing with delight
The day the music died

He was singing,
“bye-bye, miss american pie.”
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
And singin’, “this’ll be the day that I die.
“this’ll be the day that I die.”

I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news,
But she just smiled and turned away.
I went down to the sacred store
Where I’d heard the music years before,
But the man there said the music wouldn’t play.

And in the streets: the children screamed,
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed.
But not a word was spoken;
The church bells all were broken.
And the three men I admire most:
The father, son, and the holy ghost,
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died.

And they were singing,
“bye-bye, miss american pie.”
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, “this’ll be the day that I die.
“this’ll be the day that I die.”

They were singing,
“bye-bye, miss american pie.”
Drove my chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, “this’ll be the day that I die.”

Together with Bruce Springsteen’s “The River” the biggest threat to “Hotel California” as my best song of all times ever and ever forever. I regularly play the “American Pie” album on my record player.

Like now.

Now playing: Don McLean - Crossroads

Something close to impossible, but here is a list of my ten best albums, ever. In no particular order:

I usually don’t blog about sports, because I’ll turn into one big chauvinistic annoying man who hates everyone who isn’t Dutch (esp. Americans). That’s why I haven’t blogged yet about the speedskating in Torino at the Olympics.

Speedskating is a Dutch sport. Speedskating in general is in every Dutchie’s blood and bones. In my country, everybody can iceskate. As soon as temperatures drop below zero, the entire nation gets ‘ice-fever’. We have a word that no other languages has: ‘ice-fun’ (literally translated). I cannot explain the feeling we Dutch have when we’re on the ice, with the kids from the neighbourhood, parents watching, teens going way too fast, people falling, people learning how to skate behind chairs, ‘koek en zopie’. You don’t understand when you’re not Dutch. To illustrate this point, take the Elf Steden Tocht. This is an iceskating tour along the eleven cities of the province of Friesland. This is a tour of, I’m not kidding, 200 kilometres. The event can rarely be held due to our easy winters.

How deep does this go? Deep. Very deep. Hendrick Avercamp, Dutch painter from the 16th century, painted the following.

Anyway, there was a big deception last Thursday when the Dutch speedskating team fell on the new Olympic speedskating event ‘Team Chase’. We Dutch would’ve taken the gold– there is no doubt about that in the speedskating scene. But even for that we Dutch have a saying– ‘falling is part of skating’. Ireen Wust won gold on the women’s 3000 metres, Groenewold got silver. Kramer took silver on the men’s 5000 metres.

But today, on the men’s 1000 metres, Wennemars took the bronze medal. And I want to congratulate him with it, because he has come a long way in the last 4 weeks. He hit rock bottom 4 weeks ago in Deventer, got ‘kicked out’ of his team by coach Jack Orie, just two weeks before the start of the Games. He joined the team of coach Gerard Kemkes, and now he has won the bronze medal. I bow deep to Erben.

Very deep.

Joran van der Sloot is about to become trapped. He is as we speak on his way to JFK airport, to partake in an interview with ABC. Somehow, someone leaked this to the family of Nathalee Holloway, and they now have a money claim with an arrest warrant waiting, for all the damage he has supposedly done to the Holloway family.

Right. He has not been proven guilty, yet they can demand money from him. SURE.

Let me state, once and for all, that I wish nothing but disaster, hell, and sickness to the the mother and father of Nathalee Holloway. Joran van der Sloot has been released because of a lack of evidence. It’s OVER. He is NOT GUILTY. He has NOT DONE IT. As if he would go the United States, where they still employ the barbaric death penalty, if he was guilty.

Nathalee Holloway probably wasn’t the blue-eyed blonde angel her parents want here to be. It is far more likely she was drunk as fcuk, stoned as a shrimp, and fcuked raw by Aruban black men. She then fell off of a bridge into the water or something. Far more likely than blaming a boy without ANY proof.

That woman is the epitome of everything I HATE about the United States. She, and Fox News. They both stand for everything I hate about the United States. Let me state the following:

If Joran van der Sloot gets arrested and thrown into US jail today, I will NEVER go the United States again. NEVER. I’m sorry Eugenia, I know your invitation still stands, but I REFUSE to support a country like the one you’re living in. I’m sorry. I can’t set foot in a country where one is GUILTY until proven innocent.

And I never break a promise.

Christened a new word today. I was talking with Levi and Nadia about why there are never “Men’s Nights”, but only “Lady’s Nights”. And then I said: “That’s just pure sexcrimination.”

Sexcrimination®.

Sony has discontinued their ‘Bean’ iPod rival after only six months of being on sale.

Sony should just have stuck with what is was good at: MiniDisc. MiniDisc is technologically superior to any other portable music medium for various reasons (durability compared to HDD MP3 players, and expandability compared to flash MP players, as one HiMD disc holds 1GB of data), but they contained one major flaw up until summer last year: lack of MP3 support.

Designwise, only the top-end portable MD players can rival the iPod. If Sony had made their portable MDs prettier and MP3 capable before 2001 AND marketed it right (Sony’s weakness, so it seems, they have become too big to market things correctly), they would have had a winner.

Too bad. I’ll always support my medium of choice– MiniDisc is unrivaled for me, and MP3 players fail to impress me in any way.

I just saw the weirdest thing ever. Seriously. I’ll explain it for the non-Dutch readers.

Apparantly, in the Republic of South Africa, there are groups of native South Africans who do not like the fact that other Africans are immigrating into RSA. About 11% of the RSA population are immigrants. The usual reasons for the hate are there: they take jobs, homes, etc.

Now, the weird thing is this: it aren’t white people hating the blacks. It are blacks discriminating blacks. Seriously. One of the native blacks says: “They are too different. They are black black black black.”

I’m sorry, but I find all men equal. Black, white, yellow, purple; the genetical differences between men is among the smallest within one species of the entire animal kingdom.

Those natives give a whole different meaning to ‘you hate me just ‘cause I’m black’.

Yup. Yesterday was finally the day. 2.5 Months too late, as my birthday was on December 1st, but who cares. Invited my good friends over, bought all sorts of snacks, drinks, alcoholic beverages, and got on with it. I had a really great time, and I think I speak for everyone.

As for gifts… Where to start… You see, I have one favourite drink, it’s my drink numero uno, and that is of course Martini Bianco. Now, that inevitably leads to me getting a lot of bottles of Martini. A lot. I mean, really, a lot. I now have well over 10 litres of that stuff. I also got a really small one, about ten cm tall. Really cool, I didn’t have that one yet.

Marco and Levi gave me something to do with all that Martini. They gave me a Martini inflatable private pool. And yes, instead of water, I could easily fill it with Martini. Erik Jan and Lizet gave me a wood/leather bottle carrier, a really cool thing. And yes, a 3/4 litre Martini bottle fits in there.

Renaatje gave me two things: an invitation to join her to go watch Walk The Line at the cinema; and a whistle to put in my Micra’s exhaust. Seriously. I can make my car whistle. Oscar, Daphne, and Fabian gave me a bottle of Malibu, and a bottle of liquor which tastes like Irish Coffee. Yes, Irish Coffee is another favourite drink on my end.

I had a wonderful evening, night, and morning. Marco, Levi, Martin, and Renate stayed the night, and we watched some Monty Python.

Muchos gracias everyone!

—

And here I am, lying on bed, iBook in front of me, writing blog entries, listening to some of the best music ever made. This is one of them moments where your head is filled with thoughts and memories of the night ‘fore, while at the same time, being scaringly empty as well.

Cos there’s something in a Sunday, makes a body feel alone.