Oil for Humanity

As per usual, the major media ask all the wrong questions and keep us pacified with graphics, soundbites, and summaries. Oil for food. Oil for food. Point the finger… point the finger. They took money, they took extra, they kissed Saddam. etc etc.

For my part, being a media of one. My question starts long before any of this crap. My question is: What kind of assanine program is Oil for Food and what awful nations thought this up? Talk about a crime against humanity; You give us oil, and we’ll give you food. Now fork it over and you might get a bite to eat. — Pathetic.

They want to accuse politicians and other assorted rich boys for cheating the system. They want to expose Russia, the UK, and the UN (of course) for making deals with that awful Saddam? (like the US and soooo many other countries hadn’t ever done a deal with the man?)

I’ve got my own accusations: all those billiant minds behind oil for food should be locked in a cell and given a steady diet of their beloved liquid for sustinence.

Speaking of shadey dealings, Green Catfish is the blogosphere’s hottest gambler these days — I heard.

Not For Show

Lately, through technical failure or conscious choice, I’ve been reminded of the fact that not everything is meant to be recorded in audio, text, video, etc. Some things are personal, or to be lived in the moment, without concern for who else I can reproduce it for through whichever of my favorite personal publishing platforms.

You the reader, probably know this. But keep in mind, I’ve been doing this for a number of years, and therefore – it is second nature. Something interesting happens in my daily life, or an interesting story, or an idea… my brain immediately begins to plan the written report, or for the past months — how to do it audio-style.

Don’t get me wrong; blogging, podcasting, it’s in my blood. It flows through me like art for a painter, science for an astronaut, cookies for the monster. I’ve made a personal commitment, to all of you, myself, and the internets as a whole. This commitment holds the internet as the key, the medium, the avenue, for me to reach you, and for you to reach right back. Repeat this experience, be it everyday, or once a week, or whatever. Allow time to pass, experiences, changes… to me, that is how and why blogging works. (ditto for podcasting, plus ad the rich second dimension of sound.)

I digress, the point was… note to self: sometimes it’s good to stop trying to capture everymoment in a timecapsule. Oh, and read lots of FanBoy this week.

Utrecht and Back

It happens few and far between, but I found myself heading out to another fine city in the netherlands, late at night, for a party! A Portuguese party no less, where you can walk around and speak Portuguese to everyone and don’t worry, cause they speak it. At this same party, the Dutch are relegated to a corner where, for once, they are the minority in our republic of Portuguese-Transplanted. If you’re doing any tourism in the Netherlands anytime soon, don’t miss a journey to lovely Utrecht. Much smaller than Amsterdam, but brimming with life and history stuff.

On the train ride home, being prevented from dosing off by the annoying choral group that decided 3am is a good time to rehearse the highest pitch music you can imagine…. I started thinking of impeachment. That’s just what came to mind.

When oh when will there be enough evidence unearthed. Evidence that this government in the White House has deliberately manipulated the public, mismanaged resources, and abused the power of that office. Clinton got a BJ and they almost tore him to shreds, W bombs two countries to the stone age, gets all his old buddies nice government contracts, and takes the country on the modern-day crusades…. isn’t there enough to Bring on the Beef?

1 Year Uncle

Could it possibly have only been one year ago today that my little boy… my little A-Ren came into the world? Was I really sitting here in Amsterdam, staying up all night, waiting to hear word if I had a niece or a nephew?

It’s hard to imagine my family pre-A-Ren. Almost seems as if in every memory I have of the last few years, he’s somehow been pasted in there. Even from this side of the ocean, far away and unable to see him first-hand, I know he’s the pride and joy… the superstar of my family.

And of course, I’m a silly uncle, and I have so much guilt and fear, that living here in the Dam will make me a forgetten uncle. It’s to a point that I write in this blog in hopes that one day, A-Ren who I love so much, will flip through it, and say — “UncleBM, You wrote that about me?”

And I’ll play it cool, cause I want to be the cool uncle, I’ll say — Yeah kid, I did. Now lets get out there on our bikes, I’ve got windmills to show you.

Happy Birthday A-Ren!