Cogs can think.

Has it already been 5 years?

Apparently, it has.

And almost 90000 documented civilian casualties. Documented casualties. There’s something chillingly bureaucratic about that term. It means 90000 times, someone, somewhere, added a little tally mark under the header of “civilian casualties”. But behind each of those tally marks, behind each of those few molecules of ink, there’s a person, a human being. A man or woman, boy or girl, with a history, a story to tell, friends, relatives, hopes, fears, dreams.

It all seems so far away. Did you know that the amount of genetic variation between all of mankind, between all of its members, is smaller than the genetic differences between one troop of chimpanzees? This means that for all intents and purposes, those 90000 men and women are not strangers, they are not mere tally marks somewhere in a dusty office without a corner view. No, they are relatives, closer to you and me than most people are willing to admit.

I hope none of us can sleep tonight. We are all responsible for all the people in the world, and these 90000 tally marks should haunt you tonight. Like 900000 nails on a chalkboard.

I’m fairly sure that in a few decades’ time, when we all look back upon these times, we’ll recognise South Park as the best satirical TV show of all time - maybe even the best TV show, period. Never has there been a show more capable of holding a mirror in front of society, never has there been a show capable of using absurdity to such great lengths to prove points about how we lead our western lives.

Yesterday’s episode (that’s legal) was unnerving, funny, and extremely tragic all at the same time. It should be mandatory material for everyone.

Just one more, Britney.

She had such a deformed face due to tumors, that she could no longer live a normal, acceptable life. She wanted to end her own life, but French law does not allow for euthanasia. The savage French law had rather that this woman suffer needlessly from her severe illness, that she would die a miserable, painful death, instead of allowing her to die with dignity and peace of mind.

French law, and the law of just about any other country out there, is barbaric for not allowing euthanasia. The choice to end one’s life when in severe pain is a personal matter, and the state has no place in this choice in any way.

I’m proud to live in the first country to unofficially legalise euthanasia (over 20 years ago, we officialy legalised it in 2002). I am proud that we were civilised enough to allow people in severe pain to end their lives, surrounded by friends, family, and loved ones, in a peaceful, painless, humane, and most of all, dignified way.

Chantal Sébire had to end her own life illegally, in a way as of yet unclear. I hope she found a way to do it with dignity. It was her only wish, and I hope it has been fulfilled in the way she desired.

I hope she found her peace. Wherever she may be.

I want an iPhone.

There, I said it. The recent SDK, no matter how limited it might be, will allow the full force of Mac developers to descend upon the iPhone. And let’s face it, application developers for the Mac know how to make great, functional applications. I prefer them over any other platforms’.

Sadly, my two-year contract was renewed only a few months ago, and of course, the iPhone will be way too expensive over here. In addition, Apple will obviously partner with any carrier except my own (T-Mobile). In other words, I won’t be having one any time soon.

Curse the control freaks in Cupertino.

I don’t talk about what happened on St. Patrick’s Day, 4 years ago. Which is weird - what happened then had little to do with actions or wrongdoings on my end. Yes, it may not have been one of my finest moments, but considering the circumstances, I kept it together fairly well.

Today I was more or less forced to lift the curtain a little bit, as my best friends wanted demanded to know why I didn’t feel like tagging along to the Irish pub tonight. I didn’t want to tell them anything, but they just kept on guessing, and just to satsify their hunger for information (and possibly, something to hold against me in the future - I don’t blame them, I would’ve done the same thing) I fed them little bits of information on what happened.

So, then, I hear you think, what the hell happened? There are a few who know the details. Well - no, that’s incorrect. There’s one who knows the details. Renate knows what happened; Renate knows the months leading up to that St. Patrick’s Day, and more importantly, Renate knows the girl involved, who we aptly refer to by just the first letter of her name.

For some reason, referring to her by just a single letter makes it all just that tad bit more acceptable.

There is a small chance she’s reading this - I don’t think she does, but hey, who knows. Let me just assure everyone that I hold no grudges, no ill will. People make mistakes, and probably the biggest mistake can be attributed to me: I let it last for far longer than I should have. And in a way, that allowed it to explode in the way it did.

And I hope I learned from that.

We have to talk Star Trek.

I have a love-hate relationship with the franchise. On the one hand, there was a time when I thoroughly enjoyed Star Trek: Voyager. It was aired on a regular schedule on Dutch TV (six episodes a week), and I watched it religiously. On the other hand, Star Trek is probably the most overrated franchise you can find. Star Trek - I’m sorry to say - is really, really bad. Seriously. If there is one series in this world that makes absolutely no sense in any way imaginable, it’s Star Trek.

So, I liked Voyager, but at one point, I just snapped out of it. I saw the ridiculousness again, got ahold of my mind, and stopped watching it. I believe I missed most of the last two seasons - did catch a few episodes here and there, and read up on how it ended. Anyway, my Trek days were, luckily, over.

Until a few days ago. For no apparent reason, I had a longing to watch Star Trek. I have no idea where it came from. Suffice to say, I decided to dive into The Next Generation, at the beginning, season one. And oh yes, it’s every bit as bad as I remember it. Seriously. This is really, really crappy television. The only thing keeping it alive is, of course, Patrick Stewart. I don’t like Picard as much as I liked Janeway (I’m alone in that, aren’t I?), but Patrick portrays the guy excellently.

I read that the other seasons are much better, so I guess I’ll just keep ploughing through season one, biting my lip, shaking my head in utter disgust that this abomination got to see more than one season, but that Dead Like Me and Threshold got cancelled. Such unfairness can only come from Hollywood.

I never understood the world’s obsession with gold. What’s so enchanting about this metal? It’s too soft and heavy to be of any real use, and yes, it’s resistant to corrosion, but so are many other metals. I find gold’s colour ugly; it lacks depth. And gold isn’t even that rare compared to, say, platinum.

To me, silver and especially platinum are much more attractive. I love the ‘depth’ of platinum; it’s like nature captured the depth of the ocean between a plate of silver and glass. It’s exceptionally beautiful.

Repeat after me: gold is tacky, platinum is classy.

There are five albums I’m currently waiting for. These five albums will more or less define my music habits for 2008 and 2009.

First and foremost, a new album by my idol, my girl knight in shining armour, my future wife, my everything: Fiona Apple. I need not introduce you to my admiration downright obsession with Fiona, and I also need not detail (again) why she is, by far, the greatest singer/songwriter that has ever walked this earth. Just go to the little search field in my sidebar, and do a query on her name.

Anyway, she said in the first half of 2007 that by fall 2007, she’d dive into the studio to work on her fourth album. Her third album, “Extraordinary Machine”, was released on 4 October 2005 (after an excruciating seven-year wait) to basically unanimously raving reviews, but it did mean the end of an era; “Tidal”, “When The Pawn…”, and “Extraordinary Machine” together form a trilogy. On “Tidal”, Fiona portrays herself mostly as sullen, slightly sad, and sometimes even as the victim. On “When The Pawn…”, she’s more of an agressor instead of a victim; she details the damage she ((un)willingly?) inflicts upon others, and she comes across as more assertive, ready to pick up a fight. On “Extraordinary Machine”, however, we hear a Fiona who has come to terms with her past, who accepts herself for what she is - we finally hear a Fiona who is content, even happy. The final line on the album closener “Waltz” says it all: “Everyone else’s goal’s to get big headed / why should I follow that beat being that I’m / better than fine.”

So, now that the trilogy is complete, what’s next for my beloved Fiona? Time will tell, but I hope Time won’t take its sweet time like it did between 1998 and 2005.

The second album I’m waiting for is The Cardigans’ 7th studio album. Studio time is planned for late 2008/early 2009, and knowing The Cardigans, who pride themselves on never having made the same album twice, we’ll be surprised and baffled by what they’ll come up with this time. I hope for at least a little dash of “Gran Turismo”, as I think that album’s dark and electronic sound had much more in it than just “Gran Turismo” - which is not to say it could’ve been better, I’m just saying the sound hasn’t been explored to its fullest of potential.

I’m also waiting for a new Garbage album. “Bleed Like Me” left me with a bitter aftertaste, as the album was a clear response to criticism the band received after “Beautifulgarbage”, a highly experimental, difficult-to-listen-to-at-first masterpiece. And you really shouldn’t listen to music critics. Because they are idiots. “Beautifulgarbage” was highly stylised, and mostly lacked the powerful guitar riffs from their highly successful and critically acclaimed first two albums. So, for “Bleed Like Me”, Garbage tried to sound more ‘grunge’, more raw, and it just didn’t work very well. Garbage is a band consisting of four producers (Butch Vig being one of them) so they should stick to what they do best: studio albums. Turn and twist those knobs, Shirley, Butch, Steve, and Duke, I know you like it.

Speaking of Shirley, she’s recording her solo album, and I’m obviously awaiting that one too. The album will be “quite dark and moody”, and that’s just how I like Shirley Manson.

This leaves me with number five on this list, and that’s the second A Camp album. A Camp is the solo project of Nina Persson, vocalist of The Cardigans. A Camp’s first album, imaginatively called “A Camp”, caught me completely off-guard, and even though it was not love at first sight, a few listens later, I embraced it for what it was: a slightly experimental journey into the unknown, Nina breaking free form the shackles of being in a band. It’s a great album, although I’m sure its country influence won’t be to everyone’s liking.

The coming two years are going to rock. Well, musically at least.

omgwtfnooo!!11! Hide your children! Park your car indoors! Buy lots of bottled water, toilet paper, cat food, and canned beans! Duck and cover! Curl up in fetal position in a corner and cry!

For the love of god people, this is not a joke! We are facing the worst disaster to have ever struck in the history of man!

She’s coming! SHE’S COMING I TELL YOU!

I was just watching State Secretary of Defense Jack de Vries (is that a Tom Clancy name or what?) on TV, explaining how he wants the Dutch people to show more appreciation and respect for our military and its personnel, despite whatever you might think of our mission in Afghanistan. And I couldn’t agree with the guy more.

I’m against us being involved in the mess the Americans and Brits created over there. It’s not our war, let them sort it out.

But, that’s a political issue. Our democratically elected politicians have decided that our men and women of the army should be there, and even though I fully disagree with that decision, it was not made by the army itself. They get stuck with doing the hard, dangerous, and intensive work over there, trying to do their goddamn best to help the people there, to create better living conditions. They are putting their lives on the line every day, and they do it with such commitment, passion, and determination that I can feel nothing but respect and pride for the work they do.

It of course helps that one of my best friends is in the Royal Military Academy (cavalry). The way he details life at the Academy, what they learn, the toughness of the job, the intense preperation they receive for being officers in the Dutch armed forces makes you realise more than ever how much respect these men and women deserve.

It’s easy to stand on the sideline, and critique our military. It’s easy to sit in your lounge chair, bag of Doritos, a beer, and 6 remotes to control your DVD, Blu-Ray (or, HD-DVD if you’ve been stupid), 50″ plasma, and whatever, while knowing you have to get up at 7am the next day, only to start up your 1.4 Opel Astra, to traffic jam your way to your boring 9-to-5, for the rest of your life, ever and ever, until you die.

Our guys and girls in the military are doing their very best to deliver, and they work hard, much harder than most of you will ever realise. And because of that, I support our troops in Afghanistan. Good job, guys.