Cogs can think.

Right now, there is only one person in this country whom I’d accept as prime-minister.

Neelie Kroes. She’s the kind of iron lady we could really use - immense body of experience, stately, intelligent, charming (in a weird way), and she’s dealt with a world far harsher than politics: business. Most of all, however: I don’t think she’d give a rat’s ass about someone’s religion. If you’ve broken the law, she’ll deal with you - Muslim or no. And that’s really the attitude we need over here, because we’re getting ever closer to a new Kristallnacht.

If the VVD announced that they would put her forward as candidate, the VVD would score votes big time. I’ve heard even the most die-hard leftists speak out their preference for Kroes. It’s really too bad that she accepted a new post in the EC. She should be preparing for the PM post now.

Coincidentally, it would be our first woman as PM.

Outside, The Netherlands has turned white. A sheet of snow covers the country, from the farms in my hick town, all the way to the stately homes near the canals in Amsterdam. Traffic jams are twice as long as usual, public transport has come to a screeching halt, and the newspapers, television news programs, and blogs are filled with pittoresque imagery of people of all ages and descents playing in the snow.

Children are throwing snowballs in my street, dads grudgingly huddle up in their warmest coats, pulling sleighs with cheery children to the park across the street. And women and girls always look better in winter attire. It’s a rare sight, sadly.

Do you know what’s my favourite aspect of ice and snow fever? The fact that nobody is talking about immigration, Muslims, and climate bullshit. This is one of those rare occassions when it suddenly feels good again to be Dutch, when all of a sudden, you no longer have to be ashamed to call yourself “Dutch”.

It’s as if the cold, -10/-15 degrees, also has a much-needed cooling effect on the heads of the people in this country. No longer are we talking about closing the borders, about prohibiting headscarfs, the climate religion, Geert Wilders, and all those other things that shouldn’t be typically Dutch, but sadely enough, are - or better yet, have become.

This is the time when those thoughts of America are nothing but a distant strain of fog.

Sadly, sanity does not last forever. It might last through Christmas - meaning, the first white Christmas since 1981 - but after that, it’s over. We’ll return to criminalising and demonising people simply because of their religion, and we’ll continue to make plans and spend boatloads of money on a problem with no scientific base whatsoever.

I’m only 25, and I already long for the days when we didn’t need snow to be cool.

Battlestar Galactica had very, very few flaws in my book, but there was one thing that always bothered me: the planet Caprica. The problem is that whenever someone on the show said “Caprica”, I thought about “paprika”. In English, you say paprika, while in Dutch it’s paprika. In other words, I was reminded of paprika all the time.

And I really fcuking hate paprika.

That was about my only issue with BSG. For the rest, I’m such a huge fan of BSG that if I’d ever run into Ronald D. Moore, I’d probably start licking his face (assuming Nicki isn’t around, of course). You can imagine that I was really looking forward to Moore’s next endeavour, “Caprica”. Paprika Caprica is a prequel to Battlestar Galactica, taking us back 58 years so we can witness the creation of the first Cylon, and the run up to the first Cylon War.

In fact, I was so looking forward to it that I totally missed the pilot, which aired 8 months ago.

I only found that out this morning through Eugenia’s blog post. Luckily, though, it turned out that the original pilot had some issues, which Moore and his crew fixed in an extended and new cut of the pilot which SyFy put on their website. Of course, me living in the The Netherlands and all, I’m technically not allowed to watch it from here - but as my friends know, I’m a James Deanish bad boy, so I put on my nerd pants and fiddled with my network settings until my computer thought it was living in California.

I would’ve preferred South Carolina, if only to totally screw up SyFy’s marketing department.

In any case, I finished watching the 90 minute pilot episode a few hours ago, and I must admit that I’m positively surprised. I mean, I always had the fear that the BSG universe would fall into the same trap as Star Trek did (i.e., reuse the exact same character archetypes in different settings 6 times in a row), but none of that happened during the pilot episode: this is a different show, with a completely different setting, and with completely different characters.

And Zoe.

Caprica gets major brownie points right from the start because its actors act natural around all the fancy-pants stuff they have around them. In most science fiction shows, including Star Trek, actors act as if they were present-day humans flung into a modern and advanced world: they explain the workings of tools and equipment ad nausea, which is totally frakking unbelievable and hinders immersion.

You don’t go around staring in bewilderment at your computer or TV every day, now, do you?

The series gets even more brownie points for having that BSG feel when it comes to camera work and music. It’s different, but instantly recognisable to BSG lunatics like myself. Of course, this being a Moore show, the religious theme is present (which I find awesome, as I’m not an arrogant look-at-me-being-all-non-religious-while-at-the-same-time-believing-the-climate-hype type), but the element of racism is present too, and both feel very well done. The special effects are awesome too, and the first ever Centurion is just plain frakking scary.

The only real problem I found was that cheap moment where Daniel Graystone supposedly lost the data of his daughter after loading it into the Centurion. This made no frakking sense whatsoever, as he should’ve kept a backup, and as a major technology dude, he probably had, too. Moore could’ve come up with a more believable scheme here - maybe the Centurion could’ve gone bonkers first, destroying the equipment in the room. The way it happened now felt like cheap cop-out.

Overall though, I most certainly will be watching from January 22, 2010, and onwards. If only to see more Zoe.

Finally someone who understands science - something politicians and those climate hoaxers certainly don’t. And dear lord, it has to come from a fiction writer.

I want to pause here and talk about this notion of consensus, and the rise of what has been called consensus science. I regard consensus science as an extremely pernicious development that ought to be stopped cold in its tracks. Historically, the claim of consensus has been the first refuge of scoundrels; it is a way to avoid debate by claiming that the matter is already settled. Whenever you hear the consensus of scientists agrees on something or other, reach for your wallet, because you’re being had.

Let’s be clear: the work of science has nothing whatever to do with consensus. Consensus is the business of politics. Science, on the contrary, requires only one investigator who happens to be right, which means that he or she has results that are verifiable by reference to the real world. In science consensus is irrelevant. What is relevant is reproducible results. The greatest scientists in history are great precisely because they broke with the consensus.

There is no such thing as consensus science. If it’s consensus, it isn’t science. If it’s science, it isn’t consensus. Period.

And yeah, I’m getting the defr… Defib… Chest paddle electric things to try and reanimate my blog.