Tag Archives: russia

Pigs in Space

Captain’s blog – stardate 071104.1909

Museum-night! Does your city do this? What? You don’t live in a city? THE HORROR.

So seriously, not everyone has to live in a city, I know. But if you do, you probably have some sort of annual event where they are all open til 2 or 3 in the morn and they turn themselves into all sorts of nocturnal hip-spots. The idea is, of course, to promote museums to audiences who may not always check them out (young people like my non-museum going self?). Having lived in quite a few cities mostly in Europe, I have to say Amsterdam puts the Muse in Museumnacht. Bright lights, trams dating back to 1915, old ass buses with postboxes attached to their bumpers, and a whole lot of people running from museum to museum like it’s an easter-egg hunt.

So the mysterious Anne from Underabell decided to combine our first ever in-person meeting with this special evening’s events, and she arrived in Amsterdam just in time for some of my famed green-bean soup and hummus on olivebread. Needless to say she was high on good eatin before we even started museuming. In total we hit up about 6 museums (Artis, Tropenmuseum, Oudekerk and the Waag, among them) and took one old fashioned tram ride. In this one night we managed to see prostitutes, canal fish, a Javanese mating dance, artifacts from the Aztec civilization, a Tango competition, computer nerds at play, and one of the coolest Astronauts ever – LIVE.

My favorite part had to have been the hour we spent in the planetarium listening to Andr? Kuipers, as he showed up images of his mission aboard the International Space Station. The training involved is so intense, the ISS looks amazing, and cosmonaut culture in Russia and Kazakstan fascinates me to no end. The snow, the images of Yuri Gargarin, the Russian computers, and the orthodox priest who soaks you in Holy Water when its launch day.

But there’s a larger issue I want to discuss with you friends and readers. Why oh why does space research and travel fail to interest the masses? What happened to the romanticism of exploring the new frontier? What needs to be done to get the public and the powers-that-be to get interested in space for reasons besides making “friggin laser beams.”

After Andr? Kuipers, who just returned from the ISS, who crashlanded softly back in a Kazak desert and back in Amsterdam, who played with M&M’s in zero gravity while orbiting the earth, after he finished his presentation, he opened the floor to questions. A crowd of maybe 80 to 100 presumably Dutch people, considered highly educated folk, a majority of this crowd walked right our the door like the room was filled with the plague. A few people, myself and Anne included, stayed and listened more. We wanted to shake his hand. I wanted to give him a hug and say thanks on behalf of humankind.

But all is not lost. Andr? didn’t seem worried. He spoke about the a mission to land a vehicle on a comet, the inevitable human-landing on mars, and YES – Europe (ESA) beginning its own shuttle program from its beautiful base in French Guyana. From there they will launch Soyuz and Arianne rockets and move forward together with the rest of the world, regardless of NASA and its obsession with weapons of mass destruction in space. And let me not forget the Indian, Chinese, Japanese and Brazilian space programs, that are advancing quickly and are interested in understanding the universe as well.

Still I come back to that nagging feeling, all those people walking out, the disinterest and underfunding of space programs versus insane money spent on stupidity. What needs to be done? Oh.. and DAM — Its hard to become an Astronaut with the ESA.

Today’s Sounds: Dave Mathews – Some Devil

Our Portuguese Loser

I was speaking with a slightly Drunken Dutchman and a Spaniard last night, enjoying the conversation about the tiny Russian exclave Kaliningrad, when Crazy Dr. M jumps in and dramatically warns, “Watch out! This whole conversation will end up in his blog!”

Touch? Dr. M, and yes.. it was me outside your window on Thursday night, standing on the edge of Big Jim’s boat trying to tip over your badly painted houseboat.

So it has now been a few months that our former Portuguese Prime minister got promoted and moved to Brussels as the new President of the European Commission. At that time, anyone could have told you that Dur?o Barroso had always been a Portuguese foot stool. Our lamest politician, with little personality, and not much left of a spine. But alas, Brussels wanted him, presumably since nobody had ever heard of this multilingual brown noser. They loved it when he arrived and spoke French with the Frenchies and then English with the Englishers, and you can bet he gives good Spanish. Hell I could do that job, except that I don’t like the taste of boots on my tongue.

But our hero continues to be a disaster, wherever he goes. His latest comes with his cabinet selections, for minister of justice and security, the imfamous Italian asshole Rocco Buttiglione… aka Butt.. aka Ass. The Ass recently declared that to him, homosexuality was a sin and that families existed for women to have children and be protected by a man.

Isn’t that just inspiring? This man will oversee justice in the EU. Nevermind Dur?o’s choice for competition minister, the Dutch Neelie Kroes, who has already lied about her dealings-on-the-side with Lockheed Martin.

But don’t give up on the EU yet, because what these chumps don’t realize, is that you have to get by some of the frumpiest and critical socialist and liberal representatives around, the EU Parliament. And amongst these folks, anti-gay and anti-woman rhetoric is never acceptable. All i can say is hooray for our entrenched Euro Greens/socialists/liberals, who may be lazy and pampered, but at least reflect a smidgen of our cultural values. (yes, I said our, cause remember, Im a citizen and a resident)

I’ve been following the pride of Toronto, the Accordian Guy engagement, via his multiple blogs. Good news, he discovered what the bulge is under Bush’s jacket.

And finally, good news – A Line in the Sand and Chris Missick are back. He’s moved camps, and he’s back to blogging.

Today’s Sounds: Caetano Veloso – A Foreign Sound (have you heard it? the mans a genius)

Ice Cream Princess

There was that day where I was crossing the Nieuwendijk chatting away with Mathemagenic, upon our first (of many I predict) offline meeting. Speeding by on her bike was the heiress to the Chilly Philly Ice Cream company. I didn’t realize she was still in the dam, apparently on her own self-imposed exile. I shouted “hello” and kept right on walking, engrossed in good conversation.

Sure enough last night I get an email from the heiress that basically says:

“Hey BM, glad to see you’re still bopping around Amsterdam. I was wondering if you already voted, I’m sure you have, but if not, I happen to have an extra federal ballot, and it could be yours if you want.”

Now, it has been documented that this year I just couldn’t get my absentee ballot in gear since I despise both alleged candidates, but still, I admit to being disappointed with missing the local races. Especially since I’m obsessed with looking at different states’ absentee ballots. So I told the heiress that I would like it, but to be forewarned, I’ll likely vote green and not for her boy JFK. She replied expressing her disappointment, stating that this election was really important. DAM RIGHT, I thought, it’s important I vote for the party or candidate who best represents my ass. And not for the horse I think is going to win the race. But to her credit she is still bringing me the ballot – a federal one, I’ve never heard of such a thing? Credit this fine city and it’s great people, all I did was walk down the street and say hi, and the daughter of alternative ice cream moguls reached out a helping hand.

(PS – If you’re in Philly, tell me if their shit is any good, go to any of these places)

Now, they say Indonesia has a corruption problem. If they’d only add me to the payroll, I might not blog about it. But alas, Wahid didn’t pay me, and neither did Megawati after him. But I was charmed by her long family tradition of politicing and ruling over the world’s largest Muslim democracy. (though we should all know its much more than only Muslim.) Still it’s an impressive thing from where I sit, how smoothly and often Indonesians change presidents thru elections. So welcome Mr. Yudhoyono, now its your turn. Take note Tony Blair, you three term whore.

There are a whole lot of bloggers writing about colored sox today. Especially those who normally write about baby bears.

Today’s Sounds: Outlook on the BBC worldservice – Running Around St. Petersburg with Returning White Russians

Our Manor Farm

I was engrossed in BitchPhD’s extended post on parenting this morning. While I have no children (that I know of) I am very interested in the topics of childcare, parenting, and well you know – society. Growing up I can remember American friends… other children.. being frequently required to take all kinds of omoxocylines and some tetra-chloro-phoro watchamacallits. It seemed like the second anyone sneezed there was a parent dragging them off to the doctor. I know that is sometimes necessary, and only shows how caring the parents in my town were, but I really feel there’s a dark side to all that. The over-protective, excessively careful parenting styles, I think, have a long term effect on society’s children, not only when it comes to them growing up to love their claratins and their prozacs, but also in terms of life decisions, those that might require risks! Those risks could be professional, emotional, or anything!

But let me shift down to second gear for a second, and tell a secondary story my dear m?e tells about my childhood:

I was and still am a notorious car sleeper. I can stay up all night on normal dry land. But put me in a car, turn on the engine, and my body falls into slumber mode. Such was true even as a toddler. And so like any loving mother who wishes to see her child sleep happy and also get some of her long-list of tasks done, on occasion she might leave me sleeping in the car, parked in the driveway in plain sight of the front door. Well, on one such occasion, I must of been dreaming of my future career as a Taekwondo Instructor (technically I still am certified as one) and I hook-kicked the auto-transmission into reverse I guess, and slowly cruised to the end of the driveway, with the car’s tail sticking-out into the street. Not a busy neighborhood mind you, a picturesque tree lined one, those who would see the car would easily drive around it. My mom was naturally horrified at the time, but now adays we can sit back and joke about my first driving experience. (In your face 8 year olds that brag about holding the wheel!)

Thing is, increasingly in the United States, and perhaps Canada (im not sure) this type of thing is not only culturally frowned upon, it’s probably a jailable offence. If the wrong neighbor sees, I might have to kiss my family goodbye! Now I’m not singing the praises of libertarianism, or the good’ol days, nor am I denouncing important Child Care services, at least I don’t intend to. I’m just worrying out loud. I think we need to control our fears, stop trying to control every single detail of life, and moreover, our harsh judgments of one another – especially as parents. Guess that last sentence looks lame, I have no offspring to speak of.

Totally different note, watched Animal Farm last night. YES, the odd 1999 TV version with Patrick Stewart as a pig and Kaiser Soze’s associate, Kobayashi, as farmer Jones. I love this version.. there, I admitted it. I kept waiting for the Jean-Luc Piccard pig to suddenly say “Captains log.. startdate bingy-bongy.. we’ve taken the farm to warp speed, and I played in my own filth today.” After the first 10 minutes you get over the fact that animals mouths are moving like humans, and you get back to the essence of it. I know Orwell Wrote it as an example/critique of the Russian Revolution, but I can’t help but see some familiar themes in society today: laws changing in the middle of the night, people being pacified through entertainment (TV in Animal Farm), and blindly following the leader who says he is the only one who can keep them safe from terrorists. Orwell was a genius who still helps us understand the present-day world and its mistakes. I just wish the animals would hurry up and take over, before things get any worse. Oh, and why aren’t there any cats on animal farm?

Today’s Sounds: G. Love – Electric Mile

Overdramatic

To some extent, it is great not to be in the US on Sept. 11th. I say this because sometimes the desire to remember and reflect is completely overdone and beaten to death via a tacky Newspaper Editorial or political speech. Here in the NL people seem to just go about their business. I suggested to a lovely Turkish student that today is a good day to be a little quieter and pensive, she gave me the interesting response “If we were going to be reflective and depressed on every day that corresponds with a past tragedy, we would have no normals days left.” Of course, for me this one is special due to its proximity to me, like so many people out there. So today I offer some memories of my Sept. 11, 2001. In doing so, I mean to organize my thoughts, get them out on paper, and remember the bad as well as some good moments on that day.

That Morning:

It was one month since getting my bachelors, things in my life were foggy, as happens to most recent grads. I had just returned from Portugal and was working in NYC for Glorious Foods, one of the hippest catering gigs in town. On Sept. 10th I had been working in Manhattan… a posh dinner in a bubble-tent at the Morgan Library. I remember great conversations with my co-workers from Germany and Russia about travel plans and live questions. I worked til late, and commuted via 33rd St. PATH train and then car back to my residence in my home town, Union, NJ. I was working that next night at the Metropolitan Museum of Art or something like that, so I had big plans for sleeping in on that morning.

As I was trying to sleep in.. at around nine o’clock I remember my clock radio switched on, I had left it set accidentally. It was a traffic report:

“All bridges are closed. Tunnels are closed as well. The City is effectively closed, no one should try to get in and getting out is also not possible at this moment.”

Tired Reflex I hit the snooze. In my half-awake mind I thought “Must be some anti-terrorism exercise.”

Then I remember the phone ringing. Sometimes I don’t even pick up when I want to sleep, but on this day I did. The voice on the other side was loud, blunt, and hurried: (this is as best I can remember)

DROCK: “DUDE, What are you doing?”

BM: “Sleeping man… still sleeping why?”

DROCK (working in DC): “TURN ON THE TV… You haven’t heard?”

BM: “I heard they’re doing something in the city, but no.. I worked late and..”

DROCK: “Just turn on the Fuckin TV… the Towers have been hit… and something happened here too. I probably have to evacuate this place soon. SHIT. OK.. I gotta go.. call you when I can.”

BM: “What? Oh.. OK..”

I switched on the TV and watched. The second tower had just been hit. At that point I didn’t want to get all crazy and rush to judgement, I thought “maybe it’s just a fire… they’ll put it out.” Then I heard about the DC news… the Pentagon (a building I hate normally) and they reported that the “Mall is on fire”.. whatever that means. It all sounded like chaos and hysteria. I was stunned. I looked out my New Jersey window and could see the darkness in the sky… it was still recent.. hadn’t smothered the entire island yet, as it later would for days. Phone rings again:

Mom at work: “Mark… have you seen?”

BM: “Hi mom.. yes. DRock just called.. he says theres things happening in DC… he was in a hurry… I’m not sure…”

Mom: “OK. The kids are going crazy. You can see Manhattan from the Gym windows, and some are crying, others are just confused. Lots of parents work in that area. I can’t believe this.”

BM: “Yes.. wasn’t ____ on a plane to San Fran today?”

Mom: “I don’t know… I think it was much earlier. What else have they said about this, because we’re not getting much information here?”

I summarized what I had learned and seen in my half-hour of awakenness.

As a reflex.. despite a bad break..I called ex-girlfriend. She was there. We shared our shock.. comforted a bit.. and proceeded to start calling more loved ones.

I remembered A-L. A-L… my fussball partner…the gal that made my time at the Village Voice so fun and exciting. She lived uptown. I wanted to speak with her. When I finally did get her she was fairly paniced. I won’t replay that conversation. But I just remember her need to walk around talking to people.. and inability to stay indoors.

Then the phonecalls started coming in:

Dad calls from work: Just checking in. I can’t remember much from that call.

Portugal – Grandma: Av? and Av? were worried that I was in Manhattan looking for work. They were terrified.

Boston – HJM calls: She wanted to make sure I wasn’t there. I hadn’t spoke to her in quite some time. Besides the horror of the day, I was so happy to speak with her.

At some point I spoke to BigDaddyJ, this part of my memory is fuzzy. I think I was becoming numb to these calls. Still I remember we spoke that morning.

I know at some point I spoke to IK… I had been thinking about him alot. Worried, because he is Turkish and his father owned a gas station. I had this huge fear for the safety of him and his family. I worried about the backlash. I knew there would be ignorant people with weapons running around. In fact later there were plenty of cases of hate-crimes, but IK and his family were ok.. and we spoke a couple of times that day.

The rest is more of the same. Phonecalls from people I hadn’t spoken with in years as well as people I see everyday. Everyone sort of checking in.. some fearing that I might have been there, others just wanting to talk. Later that night I remember “the boys” asking me, as the resident international affairs buff, questions about terrorism, Aghanistan, and as I recall “What is going on.. what has the US been doing that someone would do something like this to us?” I remember being impressed.. my non-political friends wanted information. They were hungry for facts. Many were, and perhaps unfortunately, they turned to television to get their soundbite information.

When the day finally came to an end, I did lots of writing. Looking at it now.. I was worried. Worried about those who had died and the families. Worried about the backlash against immigrants. And the one theme I kept fearing, was the irrational response. I worried about all the people on the earth who would die from bombs dropped in response to this terrible crime. Of course we’ve now seen how that came true.

And of course as I was sleeping… 4am.. a phonecall comes in – from France. It was the French family I had lived with and become so close with, they were worried about me, they wanted to ask about what I thought would happen next. They forgot there was a time difference.

So despite my distaste for lame Sept. 11th tributes, there it is. Most of my memories from that one day. Working the phones at the bicyclemark family farm just across the river from this massive cloud of despair.

My one wish from all this is that the war on terrorism, would stop going the way its going. Instead of attempting to hunt down and destroy terrorism, which is of course impossible, I wish humans would use their power to investigate WHY terrorism is happening. Who is being wronged… miseducated.. oppressed.. abused. Like addressing crime, you cannot simply try to catch every criminal, you must find out WHY crimes are being committed and address that problem.

Today’s Music: Shades Apart (Just found the CD under some books)

A Model Citizen

Pondering big changes starting in September, beyond eating more ice-cream. I’m thinking of becoming a daily blogger, so I asked D-Rock if I should. His response was one of the finest emails I’ve ever received:

If you have the time to blog everyday, you living the life man?.I?m not wearing any underwear cause I haven?t done laundry in 2 weeks (I?m a busy guy)

I sometimes think I?m a bum cause I?m never home and there?s no food in my house and I haven?t done laundry in 2 weeks and than I think?fuck that shit Family Guy is on

D

After reading that, I can’t help but want to spend more time with young activist-professionals in DC.

I’m always preaching about busblog, because for me it’s the cat’s meow of the blogosphere. This week is an especially compelling one, at least I’ve been totally captivated by it, because of the “Last Days of Danielle.” Danielle being Tony Pierce’s favorite lunchmate and photo-model, who’s a great blogger and originally from NJ, I might add. Weird thing about blogging is that these people barely know I exist, and yet I’m going to miss Danielle. Futhermore, I find nothing lame about such feelings.



Onto more serious worldly type issues: South Ossetia, Georgia. Sound familiar? Perhaps not, but I’m already forseeing, according to the Moscow Times and other news analysis, that this will become a civil war. As usual there are outside interests involved, including the old standbys: Russia and the US. In this case Russia quietly supporting the idea of the region joining the Federation, and the US supporting the Georgian government in their attempt to assert themselves over what has long been an autonomous region. And of course, the key ingredient: lots and lots of arms trade, the illegal and legal flavors. Obviously I despise wars of any kind, and in this case I want outside mediation by neither of the two culprits who both have globs and globs of blood on their hands.

Somehow I found this photo of my nephew A-Ren on my server, so I had to share. He’s a bout three months old now, soon he’ll be moving out and finishing his masters degree. Ahhh how quickly time passes.

Today’s Music: Blink 182 – Self Titled