Cogs can think.

I was just watching the news, and they had an item on the Merapi volcano on the Indonesian island of Java. The Merapi has been in the news for days now, as the volcano is destined to erupt, maybe causing a hug disaster. The Indonesian government (and Indonesia was part of the Kingdom for a few centuries, so there’s always a special connection with it) has evacuated many people.

Anyway, back to the item. The item was about how many people refuse to leave, because the volcano’s ‘keybearer’ (or whatever) says the volcano will not erupt. He’s just sick. He will cough– but not erupt. These people see the volcano as a friend, and do not wish to abandon an ill friend. Bla bla bla.

I laughed out loud– only to be instantly ashamed of myself for doing so. Because– we Westerners might call it stupid supersticion, but isn’t it just as stupid as “God bless America” (did I just type that? I’m think I’m gonna be sick) or “Queen of The Netherlands by the grace of God”, and more of that nonsense? If people over here believe some carpenter resurrected from the dead, that columns of fire have been sent down from heaven by God, and that when we die we go to a place of fire or a place of fluffy clouds and harps, then why can’t the people over at that volcano believe in their keybearers and ill mountains?

Aren’t we just as supersticious? I might not be, since I nor believe in a god and nor not believe in a god, but sure as hell many others over here are.

I’d like to congratulate Her Royal Highness Princess Máxima of the Netherlands, Princess of Orange-Nassau with her 35th birthday. Here’s to another 35 happy years!

Okay boys and girls, I made an important decision just now. The DB9 is no longer the best looking car ever made. That honour now belongs to the Alfa Tipo 33 Stradale, 1967-69.

No woman can top this. Well, maybe one can, but you get my point. Only 18 were made, current est. value is EUR 1000000.

The 16th June, I’ll be moving out.

How’s that for a post opener? Yes, boys and girls, the gods of housing have been generous today, and assigned me a house in the quietest and greenest part of Warmenhuizen. It’s even got a little garden! The house is very well looked after (it’s a girl’s place at the moment, so figures). I haven’t been this happy in so long! I’ll move in the 16th June (assuming the intake conversation at the housing corp. goes all fine, and the paperwork poses no problems).

While at the same time feeling a bit… Blue as well. After 21 years, I’ll be leaving my parents. And my cats.

Let me explain what pissed me off, again, today.

I went to university by car today, instead of my usual trip by public transport. I love to drive in this weather, you see. Anyway, by public transport, my trip lasts about 1.5-2 hours. Yes, that is really long. However, contrary to going by car, it’s also free. Students get free public transport in this country, you see. By car, without traffic jams, it takes about 45 minutes. All went fine, I arrived without getting myself or others killed.

After a fun day at school, I had to drive home, obviously. And that’s where the problem lies.

You see, there are two ways to get from Amsterdam to Alkmaar. A fast route, and a slow route. The bitching thing is, however, that the road signs on Amsterdam’s ring (in The Netherlands, the set of highways that encircles a city is called ‘the ring’) direct you towards the slow route. Let me give you a little drawing to illustrate my point:

I leave from the VU, and there I hop on the grey bit above (grey equals road). I move west, up towards the junction where I put the question marks. There, the highway splits and you need to make a choice: do I move north onto the A10, or do I move west?

The problem lies in the road signs: the logical choice would be to move onto the A10, as the road signs name various towns that lie en route to Alkmaar, while shortly after the junction also naming Alkmaar. So, my common sense said to move up north onto the A10. Evil choice. The A10/Ring-West is notorious for its traffic jams; and oh yes, now I know why. It was one big gridlock. I got through, and at the next junction the road signs with Alkmaar on them point towards the A8. However, the A8, which is a true highway, ends at the black dot; from then on, you are forced to travel on b-roads where you are only allowed to go 50 or 70kph. SLOW.

As you realized by now, I should’ve went west at the first question-marked junction. I knew it. My gut feeling, which I know for a fact never fails me (except when romance is involved, goddamnit), told me to go west. However, the road signs alerted my common sense. The road signs pointing towards the western, faster route said ‘Haarlem’, and ‘Schiphol Int’l Airport’. Definitely not en route to Alkmaar; contrary to the much more promising signs at the A10 route.

The bigger problem of the road signs on the question-marked junction is that they failed to tell me that direction would evolve into the A9; if it said that, I would’ve never taken the A10, as I know the A9 leads to Alkmaar.

This little joke costs me about 30 minutes, stretching the journey by 66%. And the traffic jam at the A10 made it even worse (also added a rough 20-30 minutes).

Argh. I knew it. I have made this error before, when returning from The Weekend at La Roche. The following time I had to make the decision, upon returning from the press conference at Apple NL, I trusted my gut feeling and ignored my common sense, and took the proper route.

Why didn’t I do it this time? Was I absent-minded? Not highly unlikely…

It’s been a while since I blogged (a whole four days, eternity for me), and I must say I have little to blog about. Had a very relaxing weekend, didn’t go out, but did go to the beach Sunday with Marcel and EJ. We even went into the water, but since it’s just May, the water was stil freezing cold.

For the rest, well, nothing. This week’s Sunday Eve Column turned out to be pretty popular comment-wise– it was fun to see the absolute schism between people who agreed with me and those who didn’t. Usually, there’s this whole grey area in between, but not this time.

I’m selling my iBook. So, if you want the iBook of the managing editor of OSNews.com *cough*, let me know. Specs:

Hah, Al-Zarqawi can’t even operate a machine gun… Is that all the terroring you can do, sonny?

As you can see on the right, I added a new blog to my nearby blog list: the blog of university friend Hildegard. Hildegard herself is a very energetic and funny girl (or woman? What’d you prefer?), and her blog is very similar to that: a lot of humour.

It’s all in Dutch, obviously, so too bad for all you folks who don’t speak our fine language; you’re missing out on some good fun here!

I guess I’m in a blog-happy mood or something– this will be the third entry of the day!

Anyway, with weather like this today, I can’t help but think, obsessively, that I need a convertible car. My car has a sunroof, but that’s like the rubber woman of the convertible world. It might look like the real thing, but it sure ain’t.

Anyway, when I was driving my car through Big City Alkmaar, The Streets blasting through my speakers, my mind wandered off to what convertible I’d want. The answer is as surprising as simple, actually. No, not the DB9 Volante, as many who know me might think. I know, I get extatic about the DB9, but the Volante is just… I don’t know. It’s beautiful, but… Just not as discrete as the DB9 coupe.

Another contestant would be the legendary Mazda MX-5. The problem: the MX-5 is too… Common. What about the Nissan 350Z Roadster? Too flashy.

I can only come up with one convertible I’d want to be seen in. The Volvo C70.