Citizen Reporter

Feeling Ill

They stole my bike last night. Bicyclemark’s bike was stolen. -THE HORROR- I suppose they needed it. Maybe a junkie had to ride his sick mother to hospital, and my bike was the first one he saw, plus I probably didn’t lock it properly. So that’s how I’ll imagine it… my bike was stolen in the name of saving the sick mother of a junkie; a noble cause.

I’m not surprised it happened.. considering how distracted I’ve been this week. My mind might have been racing from the intensive catch-up session I had with the Torontonienne, who has moved on to another blog(a blog I also love). I can’t explain why or from where the feeling comes from, but I see our lives growing apart, and there’s a sadness there. Then again, I guess some birds weren’t meant to be blog-caged.

On the IM last night I spoke to J.J.legs my long-time college friend, artist, prankster and paraolympian. The man who made stale college parties and nights on the town worth while. One of those New Jerseans who I miss and look forward to visiting. He gave me the odd news that an old girlfriend, Miss America is do to be married. I guess lots of us have experienced that age, when the old significant others start marrying. Haven’t spoken to her in years, and it was odd news to hear. Still, I wish her best of luck with Mr. America.

And then Arafat died, and that’s a solemn and surreal thing to watch in the media. As the angry arab has said on his blog, “they won’t have arafat to kick around anymore.” I wonder who they’ll blame now when they refuse to seriously pursue peaceful solutions.

What has most left me dazed and confused this week, besides potent mat?, has been the siege of Falluja in Iraq. As I watch the videos, photos, and reports of what is happening there, I feel dirty. Like something terrible is taking place in my name and in the name of humankind. I wonder how others feel as they watch? All the explosions, gun-firing, talk of “controlling” the city… what good can come of such madness? Democracy by the barrel of a gun, leaves me quite sad. For my part I would choose neither a dictator, nor militarily-forced democracy… we should be more creative and innovative in our solutions to problems, instead of this archaic bullshit of bombs and armies.

Today’s Sounds: G. Love – The Hustle (Loving Me)

Visitors Eve

Singing: “LET THE EEEEEEEEAGLES FLYYYYY.” Let me echo the sentiments all around the blogosphere, pack your shit and get out Johnny boy, and don’t let the revolving door of cabinet positions smack you in the ass on the way out. Who knows friends, maybe Bush Part Deux will be a kinder and gentler administration………………. FOR ME TO POOP ON!

Big things lie on the horizon for bicyclemark. Join me on a quick preview, won’t you?

No Coins, one of my greatest friends of all time, who comes from “my planet”, arrives tomorrow morning along with Tawdryjones, queen of the livejournal. (if you’re into that scene – HA!) This is one of the most anticipated visits of my 2.3 years in the dam, we’re gonna do it up right, and besides gratuitous tourism, I will do what is necessary so they can meet the characters that make up my life here. Added bonus: they are both Philly cyclists, so they should adapt quickly and enjoy bike-life here.

We are now one month away from my 25th anniversary as a human being, not counting my time in the womb, which -I might add- was a glorious time. Dec. 10th… “mark” it down. I have to start planning that night, so put the champaign on ice, get the handcuffs out of the bottom drawer, and shine those dancin’ shoes, cause this boy is tired of low-key birthdays. For those wishing to do something extra – THE WISH LIST. MST3K on DVD is also a welcome gift. (don’t worry about DVD-regions, I broke that stupid code long ago.)

In less than two months I will be with my nephew… the A-REN… and together we will eat with bibs on, make funny baby sounds, and play with educational toys so that I might finally learn something.

There is more, but who could top those three beautiful things? Plus, did you know teens don’t read newspapers? I know my cousin akindofirony does, but apparently she’s an exception. I looked at the statistics of what media teens spend their time with and decided to do my own life breakdown based on their categories. I encourage you to do the same in the comments.:

Around 1 hour per day.

1 hour per day

6/7 hours per day.

an insane amount of hours per day.

nah… too busy surfing the net.

30 minutes of my day.

They still exist?

45 minutes of my offline day.

You mean a graphic novel?

I think the categories suck. You could (and I do) spend hours on the net reading newspapers, listening to the radio, playing games, and YES reading graphic novels. Something tells me Gallop is too damn old fashioned to be surveying teens.

Today’s Sounds: Rush – Vapor Trails (Yes I sometimes listen to Rush!)

Cheers the Computerlab

An enthusiastic international student friend of mine walked into the fishtank in the wee hours of the morning, and greeted me as I was manning the bridge. He stopped and said:

You know BM, it’s always good to see you here when I walk in. It’s sort of.. comforting, like an old friend who’s always there.

I don’t usually think much of my fishtank duties at the international school, it’s certainly not the reason I work there, but at that moment – I felt like I was making a difference in people’s lives. No wait, I felt like Norm from Cheers, only without the beernuts.

This little “moment” reminded me of my days in Aix-en-Provence, at Spoiled American University. The most loved Internet Caf? was run by these two young, French, computernerds. Of course, I loved them. We all did. It was one of the best parts of the day, that initial walk-in conversation in French, usually consisting of:

Yeah well, I only REALLY learned to speak French in Lisbon. France was more like language training camp, and I was the recruit who kept falling in the mud-puddles. But that’s a whole other story. The point of this trip down memory lane is that I realized for this student, I was Bernard, so to speak; that young, potentially hip guy who lives and works in the country where you are temporarily studying. And just like I’ll always remember the French guys at the internet-caf?, some of these students will always remember Bicyclemark who worked in the Fishtank sometimes. I’m honored to be a fixture in people’s memories.

Freshly back from Paris, Jamie of The Known Universe came to the ranch for some conversation and whiskey. As he mentions in his post, we talked about everything under the sun, including my PHD plans of studying the Culture of Weblog Readers and Writers. He was clearly fascinated at the idea, never having given much thought to the idea of himself becoming the museum exhibit behind glass.

Please do not touch the blogger.

Please do not speak to loudly, as it will startle the blogger.

Notice his leather jacket and walking boots,scientists have yet to reach a conclusion of how this affects his writing.

I’ll be giving the tours of course, wearing a white labcoat and latex gloves.

Jamie and I spent some time talking world affairs, specifically about Ivory Coast. We worried about the safety of a journalist friend of his, and talked about how the situation will undoubtedly get worse. Reading the latest and watching the videos, I’m annoyed with both the French Military and the Ivory Coast. I knew Laurent Gbagbo was a dangerous manipulator, but I couldn’t predict this overtly colonialist behavior on the part of the French. They guard whatever the hell they want, they bomb whatever they feel is a threat to their presence in the country, and they act as if its perfectly natural to do so. Sound familiar? No surprise there I guess, for all their bickering France and the US have many similarities, as do Paris and New York.

Today’s Sounds: Bob Dylan – Blood on the Tracks (its been a while)

Clash of Stupidity

I didn’t even want to give this discussion any attention, but here I go, head-first, just for today:

I swear the Dutch masses dream of a holy war. They seem to foam at the mouth to talk about “the muslims.” I guess it’s a reoccurring thought nowadays, in certain countries – the US versus THEM. There’s a slight tinge of fascism and racism in the winter air, and it has been there for at least 2 years.

A controversial and beloved film director was murdered/assassinated in cold blood by what turns out to be a Moroccan extremist, complete with a note condemning the director’s criticism of Muslim culture. The whole country goes nuts, as if there isn’t an assassination per season around here. (oh yes there is!) Now anyone, including myself, would agree murders are bad and they should not occur. But they’re calling it an attack on free speech, and I don’t feel like explaining that even when you have “free speech”, it is still possible that psychos get angry and violent. Others, politicians especially, use this event to fuel their xenophobe rhetoric: that Muslims aren’t integrating in Dutch culture; fascist-populism at its finest. Hell, now they’re calling it terrorism!

And so the latest, today – a Dutch Muslim school was more-or-less bombed (“explosion,” they report) The press says it could be a “revenge” attack, I guess meaning its revenge from Dutch folk. So here we are again, US versus THEM. I wonder if the Reichstag is burning? Soon I’m sure Sammy P. Huntington will be elected prime minister, so he can orchestrate the holy war.

But don’t believe the hype good readers. Plenty of tolerant people and policies in the people’s republic of Amsterdamage. I’m referring to those of us who don’t buy into the sweeping generalizations. Who get our hair cut at Atlas Kapsalon, where Majid and Mohammed greet you with coffee, a newspaper, and a smile. Who appreciate the people who were brave enough to leave their lives behind and start over in Amsterdam, regardless of race, class, sexual preference, or religion.

White Christians have carried out some of the most disgusting mass murders and wars the planet has ever seen, but I’m not going condemn the kid from Virginia sitting next to me, based on that.

Today’s Sounds: www.tsf.pt Radio Portugues

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

Dear Tissue Girl

Dear Tissue girl,

I watched your show last night at the TheaterFabriek and you were by far my favorite of Les 7 Doigts de La Main. I thought it was going to be an average friday night until Toronto’s finest chef in exile offered me tickets to see your fantastic show.

I must confess, I’ve never seen Cirque du Soleil, or much cabaret in my lifetime. I grew up in Jersey where no one ever spoke of Circus School. I was fascinated last night as I ate my apple pie and you told me about how you got your start back in Montreal. Your art – tissue – as you called it, is fantastic. The way you bend your body into pretzels and seemingly float in the air using flowing strips of fabric, I was hypnotized.

Although I’m sure you’re quite busy and have no time for guys like me, I daydreamed of the life we could have together. I know, you’d be on the road alot, and I’d be doing whatever the hell it is I do here in the dam, but I’d still have green bean soup and bacalhau ready and waiting when you got home from your latest tour. Et on peux toujours parler en Fran?ais si tu veux. Sometimes I’d go on tour with you and sit in the corner and cheer you on in multiple languages. On your days off we could catch a flight to the A?ores, or La Reunion (island), and swim with dolphins.

And as a bonus, we could have little bike-riding, acrobatic, academic Quebecois-Portug?es-American children, who would impress the world with their keen biking skills, capacity for abstract thought, and impeccable balance on one toe. Hell, they might even grow up to be good bloggers!

Anyway I realize you might actually surf the net sometimes, and be horrified by this bizarro letter. But know that its just a daydream. In the end, you’re probably all married and busy, and not understanding what the F a blog is. And I’m committed to my bike, blog and the Amsterdam. Still, it was a pleasure to see your show and chat with you. Crazy Dr. M was also pleased to meet you, he especially enjoyed the show, reminding him the days when he did theater. (OH YES!)

Good luck in the future, don’t worry about needing a restraining order against me, I’m fairly sane (I think). And if years from now you read this and remember my bearded face and long eye-lashes, use the email and maybe we can get some Eritrean food and discuss the future of the world and our imaginary family.

Prends soins de toi,

Bicyclemark

Today’s Sounds: Decemberists -Her Majesty