Index of contents in writitng section: The Right of the Button Pusher (28APR2002) A Platform to Movie on (28APR2002) Inverse Movie Chase Catch-Up Logic (03APR2002) Scanning (06JUN2002) Dear God (Almighty) (15JUN2002) Why... (01JUL2002) The World up Above (27DEC2001) The Duet (12JUL2002) Min [IN DUTCH] (09AUG2001) That Other Place (13OCT2002)

(essay on man) (essay on man) (essay on man) (essay on man) (letter) (analysis; whinings) (short story) (dialogue; fragment) (unfinished story) (proze)

The Right of the Button Pusher In the unlikely event that a train approaches the train station a trend movement will occur. In agreement with fluid dynamics, humans will assume a speed proportional to the speed of the coming train and the perpendicular distance of a human on the platform. When the train has almost come to a full halt, and did not rumble on with full speed leaving the potential passengers behind in confusion, games will start. It is all part of the larger game: to find a good seat in the train. This all since it is a truth generally acknowledged that the number of passengers exceeds the number of seats by far. First leg of the game is to get into the train as soon as possible. This requires good extrapolation skills. One who can guess where the doors of the wagon will eventually stop has a good chance of entering the train first. The joy of a person succeeding in making a perfect guess is uncomparable, to his dissappointment though, nobody acknowledges his victory and they will assume it is coincidence. “I remember well that sunny day of May 2001. There I stood, with full confidence. I saw those doors come up at me, and slowly I stretched out my right arm. There was not a doubt in my mind that I would fail now, no not today. While my index finger popped out, the sound of my surroundings seemed muffled and the breeze of the moving beast made the dreamlike environment complete. Victory was mine, euforia all over, because there exactly at the tip of my index finger was that very button to open the train doors.“ This raises a good point: the right of the button pusher. He who stands at the button and pushes it in order for the doors to open has reserved the right to enter the train first. This is a right that is accepted by all people. However this does not mean the button pusher will be the first to enter. If the button pusher does not show authority by looking directly into the eyes of his competitors, showing who’s pusher and who’s not, others will enter before him. Back to Top

A Platform to Move on As the idea of training promises to and sometimes even succeeds in transporting large number of people in a high human density environment, it promises and succeeds in being an interesting aspect of the study in human distributions. The experience begins arriving at the departure platform. We assume there is as of yet no train near the platform as this significantly increases stress and mobility in the human particles of our system. No, we are interested in the system at rest; the waiting time for a human can, quite true to nature, be assumed infinite. On most local train stations, we can also say that the platform has time to relax into equilibrium after a new human has entered the theatre. We are now thus interested in how new humans will distribute over the platform. Let us try to find out the knowledge a brave new human possesses, that could influence his train of thoughts, and make him decide where on the platform to wait. It is a complicated bunch, but we can as an ode to the art of leaving things out, name things that will not influence him. In nature, like the snow crystal, no two trains are alike. A common human without Gypsy premonition can therefore not tell how long the train will exactly be, where it will stop on the platform and how the 1st and 2nd class, smoking and non-smoking, wagons are permuted. It is quite clear that the train company creates such chaos we can neglect its effect on the human’s decision. Possible things that could influence our particles is a bad childhood, the weather, the amount of excess baggage carried and the number of disappointingly familiar faces one sees ahead and does not want to encounter on the platform. It would be safe to say that it is impossible to base this model on a psychological basis. The problem would become infinitely complex and chaotic. However, this complexity suggests that there must be some kind of simple order found in this huge mess. Let’s do business and begin to follow the system in action and make observant yet unreadable notes. Assuming you have done this, you will have distinguished four kinds of particles: the pioneer, the filler, the sticker and the bum. The pioneer wants to boldly go where no other platform dweller has gone before. He will however most likely not move straight away to the end of the platform. He moves just far enough that he is furthest without losing the feeling of being part of the human community. He has to accept therefore that later new pioneers will pass him and cover new ground. The filler is unknowingly a product of nature’s will to even things out. Since the distances between most pioneers are on the brink of social distance rules, the filler feels the urge to close that possible gap. He will stand somewhere exactly between two pioneers, thereby creating a social bond between three people without excluding someone and without appearing to have any pretensions. The sticker is an aggressor. His method is despicable, unwanted and highly social. In contrast with the other two, the sticker targets particles instead of space. He will find an appropriate waiter and stands extremely next to that person. Scientists have tried to figure out the intentions for the sticker to do this. Shelter from wind, rain and sunshine, the urge for bodily warmth, the urge to appear to have friends are a few. Conclusion of the scientific report was that these people are horrible and further research on these people is highly unwanted. Stickers are however harmless; they will never start a conversation, though it often happens that he will gaze rudely at his target. The bum is a low-energy particle. The motive behind the bum’s behavior is simple. Why walk if you can stand still is his motto. You will find bums cluttered at the beginning of the platform cleverly obstructing the other three variants from moving to thither placed platform space. To be noted is that these types of behavior are only experienced under the assumptions stated above. In the classical limit, where the amount of particles is very high, the humans loose their characteristic behavior and the distribution seems evenly. Back to Top

Inverse Movie Chase Catch-Up Logic You have to agree.. Bud Spencer movies are fabulous. If you don't agree then stop reading altogether and become an illiterate. But Bud Spencer is not what I'm considering now. Have you ever seen chase-scenes in movies. You gotto love those. The Crime Inal is in a car and drives like a Hakkinen chased by werewolves. The Do Good Cop sees the Inal drive by.. instantaniously drops his donut or the beverage of his choice and wobbles down to the squad car that is parked in a not all too nearby alley. After fidgeting with the keys, finding out he is in the passengers seat and nobody's at the wheel and some needless radio chatter he embarks on a pursuit. Not to the amazement of most viewers, 20 seconds later the Do is driving right behind Inal. Now how did he do that? And why does it take the Do 10 minutes to push that last extra 10m to finally stop Inal? This ladies and Yentl-men of the jury is the Movie Chase, and in real life things are quite the opposite. Ever walked behind a person, wanting to overtake him? The person is only a few meters ahead, but it takes forever to finally reach the person. Once you're past that person, and you look over your shoulder the person has fallen back on you at least 20km. Now how cometh that discrepancy? Basically it comes down to the fact that two people that do not know each other do not want to walk next to each other. This is due to the fact that one does not want the other person walking next to him to think that he _wants_ to walk next to the other person. Funny thing is that it's in our genes that once two people are walking close to each other they will adjust their walking speed and rhythm to each other. Meaning that how much they hate it, they all end up walking next to each other at one point. Then however sanity kicks its way in and the overtaker will take up some extra speed and the overtakee will drop some speed. The last is because if the overtaker would turn his head after a while and the overtakee is still walking 1 pace behind him, this might give him the idea that the overtakee let the him pass just because he did not walk next to him. It might also be that the overtaker should not think that the overtakee is obsessed with the overtaker's ass. Back to Top

Scanning The difference between love and lust is probably that your thoughts in love start with 'It doesn't matter if...' and thoughts in lust with 'I want...'. When waiting, sitting, standing, taking a position between moving or equally waiting, sitting or standing people, the only thing I can do is scanning. Scanning is not done by choice really, it is a way of surviving utter boredom. How to do it? It really only is looking around you and shifting your focus on all the people you see walking by or just around you. Don't look at people, just focus and wait for a prejudice to come, when it is there, DEFOCUS! and go to the next person. And let what your first thoughts or prejudices say to you sink in while you are already scanning ahead: Nose, skinny, wrong shoes, eyebrows, small clothes, wart, yellow face, asymmetric mouth, ugly, boobs. Enlightenment will be near... Be careful, other scanners may be operative. When you scan somebody that is scanning you.. feel the fright and hurry to the next person.. if you don't, the other person will. Count on that. It will make you the looker and the other the scanner. Back to Top

Dear God (Almighty), I have been foolish. I had no right to take my life in my own hands. When I searched for a room, that of course didn't work out, I had to wait for René to offer me one. I merely agreed as You would have approved. But this time Lord, I thought it was different. I followed my heart and my mind too, You know. I chose for this girl, God, and before that I didn't even think I had a heart, You know that I'm sure. I'm sorry I tried to ignore fate, my fate. I thought you gave me my way Lord, but I guess I was now too blinded to see all your usual warnings. But God, Your lessons never fail and the only way to rectify my wrong is to make the decision, to choose, to stay away from the girl where love is concerned. You know what kind of Love I mean, God. You're supposed to be made out of it. She's very cool though, I hope you'll let her wanting to chat with me still, it's not her fault. I'll just patiently wait for You to let someone contact me, hey, maybe you already did. But I won't meddle into that, since they are not my affairs clearly. If I may be so free, Lord. I notice a trend. In the last years you've showed me closer and closer how bad the world is, I hope You are not preparing me now to experience the bad things in person. I wonder what You have in store for me next. Remember, it's my birthday soon. You know what I want; what I tried to seek, what I need. I know You are laughing now, I am in no position to want things.. but keep it in mind when You balance my good and bad experiences in my future life. In hope of a fruitful cooperation, Your humble servant. PS. Remember what You made the stars say about me in the horoscope after June 15th. Back to Top

Why... It's a question that people are not comfortable with asking. At least they don't seem to do it much and if they do they are not very eager to find it out. On my page I have this picture of a girl. I made that picture. It shows the result of an idea that you think that the most beautiful face is the combination of all the faces you see in your life. What you see is one picture, and you could say that you do not agree that it is the prettiest face. You could also say you don't like how the mouth looks, the hair or whatever. But did you know it took me 5 months to make that single picture. Five months. I had to program the whole blending process myself. I had to learn ways of handling pictures, large blocks of memory. I had to use nasty math I was just learning in my second year of university and I had to invent some extra nasty math that I didn't get to learn there. After a lot of effort I needed a lot of pictures, so I wrote a program, that downloaded automatically thousands of pictures of faces. How? Why? .. I could explain, but well would you like to know? Anyway.. that whole process cost 5 months of my time. But nobody can tell. And nobody wants to know. I remember five years ago a friend and I made a 3D animation which lasted 25minutes. Mind you this was before movies like Toy Story or Ants or A Bug's Life were made. Okay so it didn't look lifelike, we were young and all and were still not skilled in the whole 3D business, but we made a 25 minutes movie. When it was shown to the class, well they loved it. We also had made a credits role at the end showing us who made it and all the fictional characters.. we closed it with some information about how it was made… the programs we used and let me tell you that was a list.. and that made people giggle because, surely we were exaggerating. We were not. Then we ended it with: 'And it took us months of preparation and work.' And that was followed by a huge laughter all round. It took us months. But it meant nothing to them. Why? Simply, because they didn't care why. I wonder if anybody has wondered why the picture I used to have on top of my page looked the way it did. I am talking about the one showing those planets. And would they wonder what the hand meant that was moving over it. And thus what it was the hand was grasping at but doing so covering and confusing the picture? I've been on a website of someone and every time you clicked on something you got a cross fade or some other fancy transition which merely showed that he could write scripts or that he (more likely) was good at stealing them from www.javascripts.com. It also showed how much my pc could slow down. I agree the pictures he makes look terrific, he is good at his craft. Then I see a collage he made of himself showing him looking in all sorts of profound ways. It showed how much thoughts are behind the images he creates. But really, I doubt that very much to be sincere. When I started this page I had no such pictures on them. I just did what I did and was who I was. I did not make a picture that showed how profound I was to cover up that I was not profound. So look at the pictures that are on my page now. The one that's at the top of this journal. It disgusts me. That's why I altered it from being a real photo to being a picture. It is an image of me. Look, I am the first to admit that I am fake. What do I want to say; I am profound? Nope, I can't decide that, but I sure don't want other people who are probably not, convince other people that they are by really showing they are not. Where was I. Yes. Why? ..Because… There is a point in the lives of the people that are not used to try to find out why, and that point comes when they start asking the question why? And then they ask that question about everything at once.. the universe, life, death and beyond. Not being used to asking that question they, instead of searching for an answer, they actually find one. God. How nice of You to drop in. God, of course is manlike. He must be since well, look at us humans, we rule the planet. If there was a God then he has created this planet for us. More than that God is veeeeery powerful to be able to create all this. Basically anything God creates is less than Himself. This is a very interesting thought because then there must be even higher Gods that can create the God that created us. It is an approach that is just a bit feeble. Why would something with such powers only create things less than Himself. It is more likely that like anything else in this universe, It would try to make something more than Himself. This whole top-down approach is just very silly. The bottom-up one makes far more sense if you are willing to wonder about the why more. It is far more sane to notice that simple things try to create something that is more complex than themselves. Maybe unwillingly, I give you that but still. You can do awfully complex things with simple things. Okay, so to accept that we might have been evolved from treecrawling monkeys is maybe a bit hard. But that is only because it took say millions of years, and most people have trouble looking ahead one day in time so how could they grasp the idea of a million years. But take the computer. It started out as an adding machine. Let's add 1 to a 0.. and you get a 1. How simple can you get? I mean kindergarten teaches more difficult math than that. Then they made that machine make larger numbers and then they figured that each number could represent a letter and maybe a point on your screen with a certain color. Do you realize that from the adding a 1 to a 0, you are now looking at a screen that updates itself with around 75 images per second with letters you can read which are maybe actually stored on a computer in Nepal and that you are doing awfully complex things without wondering how the hell it got there. But see, it only happened in a few years, you can grasp that a bit. It still is adding 1 to 0s all the time.. but look what the hell you can do with only that one little thing. Why did I write this? Don't ask me why… Back to Top

The world up above The trees were tall, to the stars they reached. The leaves were lush and green. They filled the sky near totally, the big blue was hard to see. Below dwelled creatures. A habit quite common to creatures, even those, who are rarely seen. Some of these animals liked warm, wet and squishy places, while others were more dry and cold hearted. Some would nose around holes, others would climb the trees. Among these critters a hedgehog lived, and his name was Francis O’Shannon. A stout little fellow he was, and packed with a back full of spikes. Now Francis was a curious critter. Yet he was a tad small, insignificant to the rest of the forest, and even less significant to the birds fluttering above. You see the birds never went down to the forest. They thought themselves to be above petty forest matters and their land-bound creatures. On one of his usual walks through Hackleberry Nut Lane, which connects a large tree with a smaller one, Francis was lost in thoughts. He knew he would probably not find his way back into sanity on Hackleberry Nut Lane, but this place was as good a place as anywhere else. ‘Or maybe altogether not so.’, thought Francis. Ever since our little hedgehog was even more little, and therefore less, he felt that he was locked up in a too small a body. Not only was his hedgehog body small, it was also very inadequate. Francis felt he could not move as freely through the woods as Pjotter the fox, who was now probably being agile with his foxy girlfriend Shamela in the foxhole. Nor could he hop like the rapidly growing Bunnywop family. But to Francis even these fellow forest inhabitants were limited. He saw a squirrel running and crossing his path. He followed the critter with his eyes uninterestedly. The squirrel seemed to be in a hurry. It ran up a tree, for only 20 squirrel steps, knocked on the tree, and ran as if possessed down again and into the forest. ‘Miraculous creatures, squirrels’, he thought involuntarily. But looking up at the tree where the squirrel had knocked for no reason, it came to poor little Francis. There was an entire dimension missing in his world. Up.. he could look up, he could see up, but he could not be up. And even the squirrels went no higher than the height that they might possibly sprain an ankle at. For the next days and days and even more days Francis would be pondering the thought of being up and of meeting things up there. He discussed this with some of the other animals. But the other forest dwellers had no time for those affairs, they were too busy with warm, wet and squishy places, or knocking on trees for no apparent reason. And it did not take long before most of the critters were getting quite enormously annoyed by Francis. On one day when the evening was falling, pushing the day down, Francis was sitting next to a toadstool. Poor little thing did not know that most of his companions had decided it was time to give Francis presents from a large bag full of asswhoopin’. ‘There he is, the vile annoying creature!’, said the leader of the gang, which had by now ritually encircled the toadstool. ‘We’re doing this for your own good, O’Shannon, you’re keeping us from doing our important business in our important lives.. like searching for warm, wet, and most preferably squishy places. We don’t need dreams let alone a whole new dimension.’ By now Francis was just coming to from an afternoon dream about things up and even more upper. Only then he saw the large group of animals coming near. It started raining a bit. A sad atmosphere for a sad situation. Francis got kicked and punched in all the wrong places. And it took some blows before, after all the other paws, his instincts kicked in, and like a human child in a freezing cold bed, he rolled himself up into a ball. The treetops started to make noises, a large blow of wind came swooping down and brought turmoil to the forest. And others came. The gang was now seeing more niceness in their warm holes than in kicking the hell out of an insane hedgehog showing only nasty looking spikes, so they left. Francis was terrified, he was rolled up and had no idea what was going on. The pain in his body was not helping either. It was storming as if someone was sneezing in a glass of water. Pretty badly that is. The night was dark, cold but admittingly squishy. And so Francis was all alone with leaves swirling around him and rain drops wetting him. Then thunder struck, and it struck again. Lightning was flickering like a strobe, enough for a neurotic to read a book. Loud crackling noises sounded from afar and nearby. And when a tree only eyesight away from Francis was struck, he passed out altogether. Which was not at all bad considering the following events. The tree was by now ablaze, and a nearby tree was the target of a divine electrical discharge. The wind created a firestorm, branches were flying around and the sound would make a deaf dog hear. The first tree was falling down tearing with it another tree. It was just mayhem. But it was also the end of that. When Francis woke up, the following day, he was unrolled and dry. He lay there in confusion. Looking around he saw fallen trees, tree trunks and an altogether big mess. ‘But it looks more bright than usual,’ he thought, ‘and what oh what do I feel, it feels like warmth, but not like the air, rather like a warm blanket.’ And then he heard a screeching sound up in the sky. Francis shook up, and threw his sight into the air, almost toppling over. He was looking straight into the big blue sky and far more important into the blazing sun. This was the first time Francis could actually see straight into the sun, the forest was so thickly leaved it only let through light and an occasional sun ray here and there. The storm had created an open space in the woods. And in the middle of that open space stood a small insignificant hedgehog. Francis’ eyesight was gone by now, he simply did not look away from the sun. He lost his senses, it felt like his spikes fell off his body. From the eternal brightness there seemed to flutter down a creature from up above. She landed next to Francis and spoke to him, with a contralto voice. ‘Hey there, cuteness. What is your biggest wish?’ Francis without delay answered, ‘I want not only see up, I want to be up and meet things up. Oh, up-creature, that is my wish.’ ‘Well then,’ the up-creature ejaculated, ‘I can bring you up, but you MUST remember the wish you had now.’ ‘Sure, sure, anything I shall do’, the hedgehog answered without thinking. So Francis started feeling light and not long after he was tiptoeing. The creature explained him how to swoop his paws. The hedgehog followed every command and he started rising up and up. Francis looked down when his eyesight was reasonably recovered and he saw a few other forest creatures moving about below. He yelled to them and he yelled again. But the forest creatures would not hear and seemed to be rather busy with walking about. Above the trees Francis felt like never before. He started flying over the tree-tops as if he had flown all his life. Soon he lost sight of the creature that had helped him come up. Francis did not care he had no more constraints, he felt free and nothing would matter anymore. He followed flocks of birds to fascinating unknown places. He would fly above the clouds when the weather was bad. He mocked with the birds about the silly ground-dwellers and he had meals with them on open grounds. One time he was drinking in a creek and when he looked down into the water, he failed to see a hedgehog as a reflection. ‘Well isn’t that a surprise? I look like one of the birds. Oh well, that must mean I am now really part of the up-world.’, twittered Francis. For sunturns and sunturns Francis would flutter in happiness until one evening he was caught in a storm. He had forgotten to climb up above the clouds and so he was trapped in the grasp of the winds. He felt terrible, not being free of what to do and he was hoping the storm would end soon. It was then that what the up-creature had said to him came back into his memory. ‘Never forget your wish,’ Francis whispered to himself. Not much later the storm ended abruptly and he found himself floating over a large forest. Confused by the turmoil he was looking for a place to land. Not much further an open space appeared in the forest. Smoke puffs drifted up from it, from where lightning had struck. So Francis circled down. And there he saw, in the middle of the open space, a small wild kitten. It was looking up directly into the sun. Francis landed next to it and asked the kitten: ‘Hey there, cuteness. What is your biggest wish?’ Back to Top

The Duet - Isn't it an outrage!? - It sure is. - You're not just saying that are you? - I have no reason not to. - Okay. ..... - Do you realize what you have just said? - No, not really. Should I be worried? - Well, let me put it like this. Can you look back at what you have said to me in the past? - The past? - You know, ..., we are talking to eachother for quite some time now. - If you say so. But if we've been talking for all that time, when will we stop? - As long as you keep replying to what I am saying, I suppose I will do so to your gibberish as well. - And that means we will go on for eternity. - Unless something stops us. - Oh, I'm looking around, but I can't really see something that will stop us. - Do you know what would be cool? - Probably, but go right ahead, indulge me. - If there was this higher being. You know, higher than us two. And this being could see all the things we wrote in the past. - Maybe we could ask that being how long we've been rattling on here? - Well we could, but how will it answer? - So if there is this higher being, can it also read what we will be saying next? - Of course, it is higher. Suppose that all we say is written in a book. This being could just browse forward and backward through all we are saying. - But where in the book is now then? - You are annoying, you know that? - So for the being we have no now. Basically he knows all we are going to say to each other. - That makes us quite superfluous, doesn't it? Back to Top

Min [IN DUTCH] Synopsis Een man, Min, leeft zoals iedereeen een niet normaal leven. Op een dag krijgt hij een telefoontje van een belangrijke personage, zeggende dat hij niet nodig is om de wereld te redden. Omdat hij toch niets belangrijks te doen heeft gaat Min op zoek naar hoe de wereld zal eindigen. Hij zoekt de wereld af, maar komt niet verder. Het enige wat hij vindt is de liefde van zijn leven en God, in een dorpje in Zuid-Amerika. Deze overtuigd Min ervan inderdaad de wereld niet te redden en met zijn drieën maken ze een einde aan het universum. Min, kort voor Minimilliaan, zou bijna Max geheten hebben, ware het niet dat zijn ouders de laatste en tevens eerste keuze hadden in de naam. De ouders van Min waren mensen die graag logisch nadachten. Helaas voor al hun slachtoffers waren zij er niet zo goed in. Zo waren beide ouders het er over eens dat hun eerste stuk kroost Maximilliaan zou heten. Maar toen het geval uiteindelijk het zonlicht zag, moesten zij terugkomen op die beslissing. Zij konden het idee van de kleine drol van een kind niet verenigen met de grootse naam Max. Het was daarom niet meer dan logisch om zo'n klein specimen van een mens Min te noemen. En zo geschiedde het. Normaliter zou menig woord worden uitgelaten over de jeugd van Min. Dat zal hier niet gebeuren. Niet dat Min's jeugd zo fijn en zorgeloos was. In tegendeel, als alle informatie omtrent Min's jeugd bewaard zou zijn, zouden 20 hoogstaande geleerden na zo'n luttele 3 jaar een geheel nieuwe definitie van 'een slechte jeugd' bedacht moeten hebben. Echter omdat de familie van Min woonde in een namaak woonkamer tentoongesteld in een groot, door camera's beveiligd, warenhuis, was inderdaad alle informatie bewaard gebleven. Een aantal jaar geleden is dan ook een nieuwe definitie van 'een slechte jeugd' bedacht. De 18 geleerden, 2 hebben het er niet levend vanaf gebracht, konden echter de onbeschrijvelijke ellende van Min's jeugd logischerwijs niet beschrijven. Het hele begrip 'een slechte jeugd' is daarom tot taboe uitgeroepen en de geleerden wisten daarom ook niet wat zij nu eigenlijk de laatste 3 jaar van hun leven uitgevoerd hadden (een gevoel dat voor onderzoekers niet vreemd is). Maar Min had geen last van zijn miserabele jeugd. Het is zeker 5 jaar geleden dat Min een zwaar ongeluk heeft gehad. Niet dat hij blijvende schade daaraan heeft overgehouden. Zo heeft Min geen littekens. Het enige wat ontbreekt zijn alle herinneringen aan zijn leven voor het ongeluk. De familie van Min begreep goed dat zij een miserabel leven hadden en deze vreugde door hadden gegeven aan hun zoon, Min. Hun besluit was dan ook unaniem om na het ongeluk geen contact met Min meer op te nemen, met zijn allen een nieuwe identiteit aan te nemen en te verhuizen naar een agrarisch dorpje net binnen Peking. Min werd wakker in zijn bed. Goed hij was al een minuut wakker, maar dat had hij zelf nog niet door. Soms duurt het even voor je geest ook daadwerkelijk accepteert dat het weer een dag aan het werk moet en weer een luttele 16 uur moet wachten voordat het wederom in een weldaad van fantasie terug kan keren. Min voelde zich lichtelijk depressief. Daardoor herinnerde hij zich welke dag het was. Zondags voelde Min zich altijd een beetje laag. Gelukkig was het weer goed. Het regende met bakken uit de hemel. Hij stond op en begon aan de dagelijkse begin-van-de-dag routines. Het einddoel was de comfortabele stoel die midden in de woonkamer stond. Daar ging hij dus uiteindelijk zitten en begon zijn de-rest-van-de-dag-routine. Die had hij niet en dat maakte de hele procedure knap lastig. Meestal draaide een Zondag er op uit dat hij in zijn stoel bleef zitten mijmeren over zijn jeugd. Als het stil is om je heen, hoor je op een gegeven moment altijd de klok. De klok is eigenlijk de trouwste kameraad van de mens. Min wilde niet over de klok nadenken. De klok, in dit geval een mooie staande grootvader klok met klepel, wilde echter blijkbaar toch Min's aandacht en begon steeds harder te tikken. Op een gegeven moment moest Min toch toegeven aan de luide klok. De klok, zo dacht Min, is het beste huisdier dat je kunt hebben. Klokken zijn een vreemd volk. Ze zijn altijd punctueel, maar ze zijn de enige die nergens heen hoeven. Min had zelfs een naam voor zijn klok bedacht. Hij noemde het De Klok. Soms plaagde Min zijn klok. Elke keer als de klok 'tik' zei gaf hij De Klok met zijn vuist een klopje op de zijkant en meldde: "Tikkie, jij bent 'em". Dit herhaalde zich dan enkele malen. De Klok kon er echter niet om lachen. Klokken raken niet zo snel opgewonden. Min hoefde De Klok maar een keer per jaar op te winden, en dat was wel genoeg voor De Klok. De Klok heeft ook nooit echt een duidelijke mening. Wanneer Min met De Klok in discussie gaat dan neem De Klok nooit een stevig standpunt in. De Klok is een echt zwitsers uurwerk, hoewel je De Klok daar nooit over hoort opscheppen. Alsof het de tijd wilde doden sloeg De Klok 3 uur. "Hmm", dacht Min, "wat zal ik eens ondernemen?". Het antwoord luidde meestal koffie. "Koffie..", antwoorde Min tegen zichzelf. Hij stond op en strompelde naar de keuken. Eigenlijk vindt Min koffie helemaal niet lekker. Sterker nog, niemand vindt koffie lekker. Er zijn mensen die geloven in grootse samenzweringen van de regering met buitenaardse wezens of in complottheorieen die vele eeuwen stand houden. Zoals iedereen weet kloppen de meeste van deze theorieen, maar het Koffie-complot is het grootste. Het leuke aan het Koffie-complot is, dat er niemand achter zit, er is geen meesterbrein. Het is namelijk zo dat niemand koffie lekker vindt, toch drinkt iedereen het. Bij het opstaan, in koffiepauzes en na het eten. Wanneer een jongeling een bepaalde leeftijd bereikt zal het in contact komen met koffie. Geen van hen herinnert zich later nog waneer dit was. Niemand vindt koffie lekker, maar iedereen hoor je dit niet zeggen. Elk mens is in de veronderstelling dat iedereen koffie lekker vindt en zal daarom nooit en plein public zijn koffie-apathie tonen. Waarom dit is, blijft een mysterie. Misschien is koffie een hypnotiserend elixer van een buitenaards ras om ons uiteindelijk tot slaven te dwingen, maar waarschijnlijk is de ware toedracht iets minder vanzelfsprekend. Toen de koffie eenmaal gezet was, schonk Min twee koppen vol, een kop vond hij altijd zo zielig, en nam ze naar de kamer, richting stoel. Net op het punt dat Min de koppen koffie op tafel wilde zetten, klonk de deurbel. Uit schrik liet Min de koppen vallen. Deze belandden pardoes op de tafel kwamen daar tot rust, zonder een druppel koffie te verliezen. "He, dat gebeurt me nou altijd,", mompelde Min, "zo kan ik nooit die nieuwe doekjes met vochtvangers uitproberen." De deubel weerklonk. Min liep naar de gang, opende de deur en bedacht zich opeens dat hij niet de deurbel maar de telefoon hoorde. Dus zo liep hij stand te pede de kamer weer in richting telefoon. Ondertussen spiekte een jonge vrouw met scheefgehouden hoofd door de voordeurspleet. Ze gaf een duwtje ertegen, de duur verzuimde de derde wet van Newton en liet zich openslaan. Met getippelde schreden liep zij vervolgens door de corridor richting woonkamer Op het moment dat het vrouwmens de woonkamer betrad, stond Min met de telefoon tussen oor en mond. Hij keek naar het zojuist binnen getreden lichaam en sprak tot de telefoon: "Hallo, met wie spreek ik?". De vrouw keek om zich heen om te zien of Min het wel tegen haar had en antwoordde: "Ja, ik ben hier bij het verkeerde adres, maar ik ben het juiste adres kwijt. Dus ik dacht laat ik dan maar het verkeerde adres een bezoekje brengen, dan is de middag niet voor iets geweest." Min zette zijn sociale masker op en vroeg of hij het jonge schepsel iets te drinken kon inscheken. Hierop keek het meisje naar de tweede kop koffie en zei: "Nee dank je, ik heb nog.". Een paar momenten later zaten beide personen tegenover elkaar in identiek ogende luie stoelen. Zij keken elkaar aan. Hij heette Min, zij Emmeke, kort voor Emmeken. Min keek Emmeke aan. Hij vroeg zich af of dit was omdat zij zo aantrekkelijk was of omdat ze er vreemd lelijk uitzag. In beide gevallen blijf je naar zo iemand kijken. De meeste mensen komen snel tot de juiste conclusie. Voor Min was het echter nogal een hels karwei. Of iemand in een proefpersoon's oog aantrekkelijk is hangt af van enkele aspecten. Wanneer een mens opgroeit ziet het een groot scala aan mensen. In zijn hoofd zal deze persoon een gemiddeld mens fabriceren. Wanneer hij nieuwe mensen ontmoet, zal zijn brein automatisch dit gemiddelde gezicht bijstellen. Bovendien kan de proefpersoon deze nieuw ontmoette mens staven aan zijn gemiddelde. Wanneer de persoon gelijkenis toont met het gemiddelde dan zal de proefpersoon de andere persoon als aantrekkelijk beschouwen. Hier een afgeleide van is de mode trendbeweging. Iemand is zo mooi als de samenleving vindt dat hij/zij is. Het probleem alhier is dat Min nogal veel vreemde lelijke mensen in zijn leven ontmoet heeft dat het gemiddelde ideaalbeeld van Min nogal afwijkt van het maatschappelijke beeld van schoonheid. Min besloot aldus de zaak te seponeren op grond van minachting van het hof, de Almachtige God die in de hemel zijt. Na een ontroerend gesprek dat toch zeker 2 uur in beslag nam, maar waarin niet meer dan 4 volzinnen een plaats in vonden, stond Emmeke op. Emmeke bleef echter op de plek staan en keek verbaasd in het rond. "Zoek je iets?", reciteerde Min uit Het Grote Boek der Clichés. "Nou je zit er niet ver naast.", bracht Emmeke als antwoord. Min keek links van zich, knipperde met zijn ogen en pakte de tas op die hij nu voor zich zag. Emmeke versnelde richting tas. Zij nam de tas soepeltjes over van Min en zette koers naar buiten. "Wat is de kans dat ik je nog eens zie?", reageerde Min, die nu echt in zijn sociale rol begon te geraken. "Nou de wereld is groot, dus die kans is behoorlijk klein.", was het door Doppler-effect verlaagd klinkend antwoord. "Ok, dan zie ik je dus binnenkort wel eens." De deur sloot met een hard geluid, maar daar kon de deur ook niets aan doen. Nadat Min de deur vergeven had, begaf hij zich richting schrijftafel. Het was weer tijd zijn werk te doen. Op het bureau was aanwezig de fijn schrijvende pen en een identiek uitziende rot schrijvende pen, die Min altijd als eerst tracht te gebruiken en daarna vergeet weg te gooien. Ook van de partij waren een aantal velletjes papier, sommigen vol bedrukt, sommigen niet bedrukt en sommigen soms. Wat was nu het werk dat Min voor de kost deed? Heer M. wist het zelf niet echt, maar hij wist wel dat als hij de onbedrukte velletjes vult met tekst die enigzins te maken heeft met de tekst op de bedrukte velletjes en deze velletjes daarna verstuurt, de volgende dag een enveloppe met geld thuis arriveert. Na een aantlal velletjes bevuld te hebben rinkelde nu toch echt de telefoon. Min pakte met haastige eil de pinguinvormige hoorn van de iglovormige telefoonhouder en plaatste een welgeplaatste groet richting de bellende partij. "Hi there feller, are you per chance Min der Waard?", klonk een mannenstem met telefoonqualiteit uit de hoorn. Nu sprak Min een behoorlijk woordje over de grens, maar ook in zijn eigen land kon hij het Engels beheersen. Min vroeg zich af waar de beller vandaan belde. Dit zou hij de met het telefoongesprek belaste man kunnen vragen, maar Min liet daarentegen zijn gedachten daarover de vrije loop. Min ging zich afvragen waar in de wereld de kantooruren bezig waren, rekeninghoudend met het tijdverschil in de wereld. Hij herinnerde zich echter dat de communicatie wereldwijd de laatste jaren compleet is veranderd. Ok, bij een telefoongesprek moesten nog steeds 2 personen met elkaar praten, dat probleem was nog niet opgelost, maar er is wel een groot technologische sprongetje gemaakt. Tijdzones zijn afgeschaft. Dat wil niet zeggen dat op elke plek op de aarde dezelfde tijd gehanteerd wordt. Wanneer persoon A in Parma, Italië om 2 uur 's nachts zou bellen met persoon C in Dolores, Colorado, USA. Dan zal A's stem zo'n luttele 8 uur vertraagd worden. Om toch een dialoog te laten ontstaan zal de stem van C 8 uur terug in de tijd worden gestuurd. ... wordt (wellicht) vervolgd Back to Top

That Other Place In the darkness a child floats along a dark street. Where is it? All houses seem alike, it's freezing, and someone's following me. There in front of my front door are shades, I dare not go there. My house must be somewhere else. This key, let it be this key says the man. He puts the key in the keyhole, turns it but the door is still locked. He takes the next key from the ring, puts it in the keyhole, turns it but the door is still locked. He takes the next key from the ring, puts it in the keyhole, turns it but the door is still locked. A woman in the tunnel feels it coming. It's after me! She tries to scream and run but her feet are stuck to the ground and when the large shade catches up on her she falls off the edge of the tunnel and disappears. There are burglars in the house. I heard them, says the husband to his wife. But his wife is not here anymore. The lights are off and won't go on. There is someone rambling at the door. A screaming ghost flies down the stairs to the husband; 'I won the lottery!' yells the man as he jumps in the air. But the floor is gone and he almost falls down the stairway were it not that he glided slowly and suddenly the roof cracked open and the man flies into the bluer than blue sky. The husband is long gone by now. The door flies open and he drops his keys for he sees the woman he murdered. 'I came for you!' 'Mommy I found you!' says the child and as it comes closer to its mother the man wails and disappears leaving the child crying in loneliness till none is left of it. The angel soars up. It is time to leave now; I've had a good life, the boy says to his mother that is not his mother. He is in peace with himself. The angel has a friend and he takes his hand, flies into the bright light and vanishes. Soon this place will be empty. Back to Top