Cogs can think.

Bad-Oeynhausen is a small town somewhere in middle-west Germany. Apart from its Jordansprudel, the world’s largest carbonated salt water fountain, the town has little to nothing of interest. In fact, up until Wednesday evening, I didn’t even know it existed. I drove home from Konigs-Wusterhausen (near Berlin) Wednesday.

The Bundesautobahn A30 runs straight through Bad-Oeynhausen. Well - no, that’s not true. At the edge of the town, the A30 just stops. There’s a fence, with a highway exit just in front of it. The highway ends, and you’re guided straight through the middle of the poor town, across a 2x2 lane street, packed with traffic lights and intersections. Technically, it’s still the A30, but such a street of course doesn’t deserve A status.

Apparently, there have been plans to properly build a highway around the town, but politics and indecision prevent these plans from being carried out. For about two decades now, the main traffic line between Amsterdam and Berlin has been thundering straight through the poor little town. Family cars, buses, large trucks.

I really should’ve visited the Jordansprudel. They say it can go as high as 40 metres on a calm day.

I’m a firm believer in the fact that boys should always remain boys. At least, during some moments. Told you I’d buy it. And build it. In 6 hours.

110 EUR. Am I crazy? Of course I am. That’s why everyone loves me.

You wanna know what I’m gonna buy tomorrow?

This.

I so totally earned it for facing my demons.

Being multilingual is both a blessing and a curse. Especially right now, when I’m continually speaking and writing three different languages at the same time.

I’m on a short vacation in Germany visiting friends, so I’m speaking German with all the people around me. I phone home a few times a day, and send emails in Dutch to friends, so I still use my mad Dutch skillz. And obviously, I’m still ravaging through the depths of teh internets every day, using my superb comprehension of the routinely disorganised English language. Still wondering why on god’s sweet earth those pesky Americans decided to McDonaldise the Queen’s English.

Anyway, you can see how difficult it’s going to be to keep those three languages separate from one another. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve unknowingly reverted back to English while trying to construct a beautifully grammatically incorrect German sentence. Or the downpour of Dutch words intertwined in German-English geschichtes.

My thoughts are all messed up too. When I’m thinking of my Dutch friends, or I’m telling a story about them to my friends here in Germany, I see them wearing lederhosen while holding 1ltr beer glasses - and moustaches. Lots of moustaches. Even on women. Sorry Renate, I’m never getting that imagery out of my head.

I’ve seen you wearing lederhosen, while having a moustache. BEAT THAT, BART.

Just went to see The Dark Knight. Boy, that was a letdown.

The only reason this film is worth watching is Heath Ledger doing The Joker. That was a total trip, good job.

For the rest, it’s rather big boom big boom bang bang kill kill. Boring.

Update: And that’s number six! The Dutch water polo ladies beat team USA with 9-8 in a breathtaking final. Wonderful comeback by team USA, who faced a 4-0 standing in the first quarter, but fought back to 5-5. In the end, it was the Dutch coach who made the risky, but winning gamble to focus on the American attacker, trusting the Dutch keeper to take out the distance shots.

Great match.

—

We Dutch already have 5 gold, 5 silver, and 4 bronze medals, but I don’t think any of them were as beautiful and inspiring as the gold medal we won this morning.

Maarten van der Weijden won the gold medal on the 10km ‘open water’ marathon swimming. He was diagnosed with acute lymphatic leukaemia in 2001, and here he is now, standing on the podium, with his eyes closed, singing our national anthem.

I want to say to everyone who is fighting the disease right now, it may not seem like it now, but cancer doesn’t have to be the end - it can be a new beginning.

For all my readers in The Netherlands: Comedy Central will start airing “Dead Like Me” on Sundays at 20:00. First episode, the pilot of season 1, will be aired coming Sunday.

This is your chance to experience the best television series ever made. Don’t miss it.

There is no difference in what we’re doing in here
that doesn’t show up as bigger symptoms out there

Overhead directional roadsigns in The Netherlands have been the same basic design for god knows how long. Blue background, white text for cities and villages, black text in white boxes for places of interest, and white arrows indicating which lane goes where. Since these arrows indicate which lanes go where, they point down onto their specific lanes. This is deemed too confusing for foreigners, since they might believe the arrows are indicative of direction (what, down into the ground?), and not lane. So, starting this year, all newly placed or renewed roadsigns will have arrows pointing upwards.

I am replacing all my perfectly fine plates, cups, and beakers with red ones. In addition, I will replace all my perfectly fine towels and washing cloths with red ones. I’ll be doing the same with my longdrink glasses, but red glass is hard to come by (although not impossible). None of these items are broken, worn, or used up in any way. It’s just that I decided I want them all in red.

Somewhere up in The Hague there is another version of me. He just decided that he wanted all the arrows to point upwards.

Spotlight on these seeds of simpler reasons
This core, born into form, starts in my livingroom

It’s around midnight. It’s pitch dark outside, the wind blowing through the large trees surrounding your apartment. It’s not warm, not cold, it’s both. It’s been a long day, spent at a theme park, and you’re dead tired. You close the curtains, start the shower. You prepare a towel, and make sure all the other shower accessories are in place.

Then, the magic ingredient. You turn off all the lights in your apartment, including the one in the bathroom. When it’s pitch dark in your home, and you can’t see 3 cm in front of you - then you slip into the shower.

And you enjoy it. For 30 minutes. In total darkness.

You turn off the shower, and slowly dry yourself with the prepared towel. And then, and only then, do you turn on the lights. They blind you. Your brain will be out of sync, and you immediately start to panic - I have to go to work, to university, I have to go and do something! And then you realise.

You’re not getting out of bed, you’re preparing to go into bed.

And then you’ll know you’ve beaten the system.

Sleep well.