Did I Say That?

Emberiza hortulana

With just 94 pages, Maarten 't Harts De Ortolaan was just the book I needed. Short and thus small, easy to carry around, something to be read after finishing The Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster and just before I would break into Carlos Ruiz Zafóns The Shadow of the Wind.

De Ortolaan (a bird) deals with what Theodor Adorno calls the phenomenon of being already taken: that a person beloved by us is inaccessible [...] because a relationship already exists, which excludes a new one., and its first line is:

Maarten 't Hart — De Ortolaan

Tot diep in april hieven de bomen hun kale takken ten hemel.

WWFSMD?

In order to keep you lot up to date with what I'm currently reading, I decided that I would post the first line of whatever book I've just started. Now that I'm halfway through my current book, here's an update:

Bobby Henderson — The Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was Arrrgh! —Piraticus 13:7

For those of you know who have not yet learned of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, I'd say, wise up, and be touched by his Noodly appendage.

Irony

Until my phone rang a couple of minutes ago, I was determined not to touch a computer again until sunday-evening. But then I made a decision, and I was told to blog that. Point? My opinions don't matter. At all. Crapdammit!

Je suis comme je suis

So saturday, after being moody for some time, I went to Amsterdam anyway. Strolled around a bit, hung around a bit, had something to eat, and after that, I went to De Kleine Komedie to see Wende Snijders live in concert. My expectations were quite high, but they were surpassed. Man, that woman can sing. The rest of the audience was also quite impressed, judging from the applause and standing ovations. Not that I have been to many shows in a theatrical setting, but from what I gathered, and encore isn't the "this is the part of the show where we go back stage, you clap, and we come back to play some more songs" schtick it has become at rock shows. Apparently, we earned two encores. Good for us. Extremely good for us.
Can't wait for September 30^th, when I will be seeing her live again, closer to home, in De Flint. Tickets are still available.

Yesterday, I went to De Observant to watch the Serbia and Montenegro – The Netherlands soccer game, with some of the old Mariposa regulars. I only saw very few familiar faces, so that was kinda disappointing, but on the other hand, there was beer, and we won, so who cares! After the game, Previously My Neighbour and I went for some additional beer out in front of Marktzicht, which was kinda nice too. Good day, all in all.

Today, stuff was going on, with not a lot happening. Story of my life.

Oh, so it's gonna be one of those days…

CTRL+SHIFT+CRAPDAMMIT! Or, how to change your plans in one easy step.

Take one blind stab in the dark as to what I just did. Wrong. I lost my bankcard somewhere between the ATM and Amersfoort CS. Retraced my steps, but no luck. So by now, my card is blocked, and my plans changed. Instead of spending the day in Amsterdam, I'm just going to spend the evening there.

I am really not having fun right now.

Update: 2006-06-10, 13:42
However, after being not happy 'bout the whole situation for a couple of hours, I've decided that I'm not going to let this whole fuckin deal ruin my day. So, in less then an hour I'll be on my way to Amsterdam after all, and try to have some fun there anyway.

This is wisdom:

The word hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia, meaning 'fear of the number six hundred and sixty-six', is my lexidiem.
For the love of all that's bright and shiny, I can't see any good reason to fear a number. But with people being weird and all, I'm not a bit surprised that there are in fact people who think that a 24-hour prayer-marathon is a terrific idea. Personally, I think that praying all day is counter-productive: while they keep pestering God with their mumbling, he might get so distracted that Satan can do whatever he damn well wants. And besides, don't they know that God just doesn't give a shit?

If you, like me, don't give a damn what some guy wrote two thousand years ago, you might see that six hundred threescore and six is an unbelievably sexy number, mathematically speaking. If you, unlike me, take whatever is written in some book as absolute, unquestionable truth, good luck to you, and have fun.

Me, I'm off hailing Satan blasting Iron Maiden's The Number of the Beast

06.06.06

This can't go on, I must inform the law
Can this still be real or just some crazy dream?
But I feel drawn towards the chanting hordes
They seem to mesmerise, can't avoid their eyes

Six Six Six — The number of the beast
Six Six Six — The one for you and me… Iron Maiden, The Number of the Beast