Modern times

Winter wonderland. With November almost gone, a cold cold time is fast approaching. Rejoice those who love Christmas, presents, snowfall and ice-littered vistas; sadden those who love sun, warmth, the beach and miniskirts (M/F). One thing is for sure: the cold, snow and ice will touch everyone in some way or another.

Yesterday evening, I went out. It was quite cold, and although I stayed warmly inside for much of the time, I had to wait outside for a bit. I have to tell you, I’m someone who, even though I like winter, prefers early summer; so I hated that cold with a fever (get it?).

All at once, shivering and shaking, something hit me like a big, falling rock crushing the marble undercroft of a stately cathedral: what was I complaining about? To people everywhere up to fifty years ago, and to many now still, this is and was daily custom, and they never complained. Generation after generation suffered hunger, cold, thirst, sadness, nefarious events and even death. Theirs was a much harder life than I will probably ever know, and they underwent it without complaining. I had indulge cold for 10 minutes, and it already was too much. And I know I’m not alone when I say this; many others would’ve hated it with exactly the same fervor.

Someone I know always states on this topic that we’re ‘raising a generation of faggots’. A new generation of people who can’t fend for themselves. Who always have to enlist the help of someone else. I don’t believe this to be entirely true; just like the baby boomers accused generation X for anything they could find, that generation would definitely like to accuse mine for every and any discrepant value. But, yes, it is true that we’ve, as a society, become softer and less resistant than before. Ill? Just take a little pill. Depressed? Just talk to a shrink. Wanna contact someone? Just pick up your phone. And so on.

Life maybe has become too easy nowadays.


(On a whole 'nother note, I can't help but feel I'm the only one who hasn't seen, and has no intention to see, the new Potter movie. Strange, that.)

A small update on my life

Some things I’ve done and come to realize in this past week:

• I’ve been having this feeling that I’m moving along in life, yet not realizing it while I go along, so when I look back, there’s a giant discrepancy between what I’ve actually done and what I think I’ve done the past couple of months.
• It’s very and cruelly hard to continue a personal conversation when the other person has big, red watery eyes and looks like they’re about to break into tears at any moment, even though it's paramount you do.
• On the same note, trying to appear normal and calm when you're actually screaming inside is also one of the harder finesses of life to manage.
• That last one has to do with the fact that, right when I thought I was out of the woods, someone totally unrelated to this particular problem pulled me right back in. And I seemingly have to go through all the grievous steps to see the outside of the woods all over again...
• House is, as I've come to realize this week, 100% right: everybody lies.
• I've noticed how many of my friends have been having boatloads of trouble in the area called love for the past half year or so. I'd like for them to be happy, but sadly, I can't wish those troubles away...
• One of my teachers simply and clearly wasn’t cut out for teaching. At all. She really does a very sucky job at it, and continues to prove it time after time again. I won’t go into details, but it’d better for everyone if she just stopped teaching and picked up another hobby. Like chess or something…
• By now, a general plan of the Erasmus you’d like should’ve been shaped. I want to go, but I feel I ain’t got nothing. Yet.

As you can see (or rather, read), this has been another fun-filled week... :/

For you

I wake up. I get ready. I do all the things that need be done. I go about my day. I can laugh again. I can go out and have fun. I simply live my life. I can go a day without…

But sometimes, when I’m alone with my thoughts, when I’m reflecting on my life, when I lie in bed late at night, sometimes, without warning, I start to think about… you. I wonder where you are now. What you’re doing at the moment. What you’re dreaming of. Who you now say I love you to. I wonder how much you’ve changed. I’ve changed considerably. I especially try to correct all the mistakes I made with you, and I do things differently, because, well, you know, don’t you? And are you still the girl I used to know, or do the cards lie differently now? They probably do, but how, I cannot tell.

I know you’ll never ever ever read this, that we haven’t spoken for so damn long, and that we probably never will again. I won’t try to contact you, you know that. And I know I don’t have to wait for you to contact me. But I still do, at times, think of you, your smile, your jokes, your candor. All the memories we shared, all our moments long lost to the inexorably pushing sands of time, all the banal yet, to me, weighty conversations. I try, yes, oh how I do try, to find a glimpse of your reflection anywhere. Anything that reminds me of you. Anyone with the same smile, the same eyes, the same sense of humor, the same clothing styles, the same… everything…  Any joke or reference that makes me think of you, even executed differently or with a different outcome… Even though it’s been so long, I can’t seem to forget you.

You were at one point a huge part of my life. I still do not know, and probably never will, if the same was true the other way around. But I do know I never can, never will and never shall forget you. This pain will diminish, but will never leave. That much has become clear.

"Only two things you’d like to forget: things that aren't important and things you wish you could forget; yet wishing never works."

On race relations

First of all, I want to apologize for the long hiatus between this post and the last. I guess I’ve just been quite busy for the past couple of weeks, and, adding to that, have been ill with probably the flu this weekend. Which is always nice. So for today, here's an extra-long post. Yaaay!!!

On to the main topic for today: yesterday, I read an article online about the 'racist' burning of poppies, and the inevitable accompanying comments. I know this is a sensitive issue for many, so let me be very clear from the get-go: I am not a racist and I certainly don’t condone discrimination in any sort of way. I’m pro-choice in just about every aspect of its meaning, and I always try to see the other aspects and points of view of an issue (and most of the time, I get mad about all of them). This post is intended to share some of my thoughts and comments on what others think and believe. It will only raise critical questions, and not contain any answers. Feel free to comment yourself, but please, keep it civilized.

The piece, from the Daily Mail, talks about how Muslims burn poppies to display their displeasure of the goings-on in the Middle East, among other things.

In many comments I read, I saw the emergence of the words we, us, they and them (as a small side note, most of these kinds of comments implied racism in some kind of form). I've always wondered: who is this 'we'? And who are 'they'?

The easiest answer is, of course, the West vs. the East. But what exactly is 'the West'? And what exactly is 'the East'? And isn’t it true that both the West and East share a lot; through immigration, adaption, modeling after one another, and lately, globalization (which is, in fact, just a euphemism for the westernization of the rest of the world). And sometimes, as was the case in large parts of Spain for hundreds of years, Moors and Christians lived side by side. Are the descendants of those people ours, or are they theirs?

Let’s, then, try to define 'we' (for me, the author). 'We' implies some sort of unity. Are the US of America and Europe the West? Well, how much doesn’t Eastern and Western Europe differ? Belgium then? Nope, just look at the bickering between Flanders and Wallonia. Flanders? Or Leuven? Maybe my hometown? Certainly, these are too small to be a real 'we' in this argument! So who is this 'we' they’re constantly talking about? Tell me, because I ache to know!

Another thing I noticed is the usage of the phrase political correctness. You know what this means, don’t you: disabled instead of handicapped; African-Americans instead of blacks/negroes; significant other as a common, gender-blind name for girl/boyfriend or husband/wife.

People offended by this burning often claim it’s because of political correctness and freedom of speech that the police can’t or won’t do anything against Muslim perpetrators, because if they do, the community will supposedly brand them as racist. But is this really so? I don’t know.

What I can tell you is this: I don’t want to live in a world where we have to walk around on eggshells, where if we offend anybody, it would be game over (as was the case with several radio show hosts, most notably Don ‘Nappy-Headed Hoes’ Imus among others), because this is discrimination in its purest form. Yes, you shouldn't arbitrarily offend people, but also: let things go, forgive and forget! 

Another much used argument is: ‘they hate our freedom' (note, again, the usage of they and our). But when you think about it, it’s probably more true if those people said 'we hate their lack of freedom'. I could go on and on about how 9/11 was not the first step, but how the West created many of the needed conditions years before, but that's not my point.

I read a piece by Fisk (don’t click through if you have a weak stomach!) a while back about corporal punishment of women for absolutely petty things in the region of the Middle East. I do think these practices are horrific and despicable, as does the rest of the Western world. But the question, which I admit I can’t answer correctly, that is often overlooked, is: ‘Is this a cultural thing? Do those societies want to change these ‘traditions’? Do the (potential) victims want to change it?’

In the early summer, I was walking around in a boiling hot Brussels, when a friend pointed out a Muslim wearing a black Burka. She said it was crazy to wear that in such hot weather; my response was that this Muslim probably wanted to wear her clothes as much as she wanted to wear a Burka. The only difference between those two women was, while one minded her own business, the other wanted to change the one.

It reminds me of historical movies and series. You can’t go watch anything that depicts the values of that time, because those practices would be called indecent by the standards of our time, so filmmakers simply omit those discrepant values instead of educating us in which world we came from.

I guess people have always wanted to spread their own thoughts, ways and manners because they see them as virtuous and inherently better; and we like to think we have the final Moral Values version 5.0, while others are stuck using 1.7/3.1/4.0. This is not the case. Open up your mind, try to see the issue from the other side, and think for yourself. You may not end up with the ultimate answer, but it truly may save innocent lives.