A read.

"Oh, the Places You'll Actually Go!" by Dr. Seuss

Dexter vs. Jason vs. Hack/Slash

Exams.

Let's get one thing straight - we're all procrastinators. It's practically the only thing that unites the races, sexes and species in the animal kingdom. And it seems that everyone has a similar method for studying the night leading up to a final.

Before you even crack that textbook open for the first time (and possibly tear the plastic wrap off) it's safe to pray to the Finals God. Without his mercy we have nothing to live for. This is a moment of desperation and even though you don't believe in God, you need him by your side right now. Remember, there are no atheists in foxholes.

Whoa, okay wow there's a lot of text in this book and slim to nil pics. Did NOT see that coming. And what's with the font-size and margins? Are they trying to pack as much information as they can on this page? Jesus Fuc -- sorry God, didn't mean that please let me pass. It's just -- haha -- okay I just feel a little light-headed is all maybe rocking back and forth will help.

NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! Rocking back and forth did not help. You know what I need a break. NO! No breaks, not yet. Okay, there's no way I can read the entire book. Maybe I'll just skim. Look for keywords and just get the jist of it. That's all these tests are anyway -- recall. But geez 32 pages in a chapter that's a lot of skimming. Okay, getting a little dizzy. Lying down.

Okay, chapter skimming done. Reward yourself.

That's how to get things done baby!! You do some chapter skimming. You get a reward. Phew, little tired from that though. OK, man up man up. Gotta ride the Bull. We knew we'd have to do this. Let's just raid the roomie's fridge right quick. OK OK OK LIQUID CANDY ENERGY LET'S GET PUMPED. 1 out of 6 chapters skimmed. LET'S GO BABY!

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. I can't do this. Next chapter was 42 pages!!! HAHA WHAT IS THAT?! I CAN'T TAKE THIS. I'M NOT READY. FUCK FUCK FUCK. THINK. FUCK. OK, WE'RE DEFINITELY NOT TAKING IT. IT'S TOO HARD. HAHA I'LL JUST BRUISE MYSELF UP A LITTLE. CAN'T LET A CRIPPLE TAKE A FINAL?!? THAT'S INHUMANE. I CAN DO THIS. I CAN DO THIS. I LOVE YOU MOM. I CAN DO THIS.

I can't do this. Fuck.

Repeat tomorrow night for next final, right after watching a movie. Or two. And checking Facebook really quick.

source.

OLD PEOPLE ARE STONED

Superfunny and true article, we all thought about this, just admit it, nothing would be cooler than getting high with the grandparents, enjoy!

Last xmas, I happened across my dad searching for his reading glasses while they were already perched atop his head, and I thought, “If I didn’t know any better I’d say my dad was stoned.” He wasn’t of course. He’s just transitioning from middle-aged into senior discount land. But more and more lately my parents have been reminding me of potheads, and it’s dawned on me…

Old people are in essence stoned at all times.

What used to seem like the sad ravages of age are a lot less alarming if you just imagine the person being high. Then it’s kinda adorable. Hell, I can really relate to my grandparents now.

I too have walked into a room with a purpose, only to find myself standing there at a total loss of what that purpose was. I constantly forget where I put my mail, or the point of stories I’m telling halfway through. I’ll drive well below the speed limit, wondering why everyone else is being so aggressive. I’ve stared at a tree, just enjoying the look of the damn thing. I've definitely gotten obsessed with a particular kind of bread. And I love hot baths and shitty TV.

I think I could have a ton of fun with my grandparents if I were blazed: rocking chairs outside, blankets on our laps, talking about how they keep their lawn so healthy. Dude, do a big ass puzzle! Or bingo at the rec! That would be amazing. I might lose them when I wanna get an assload of buffalo wings and play Mario Kart all night, but they’d probably be ready for bed around that time anyway.

This epiphany has also made me realize that if old people are stoned, then little kids are drunk. Hanging with my nieces and nephew is eerily similar to showing up late (and sober) to a party. I get to hear the same stories over and over again, told with the bare minimum of sense-making at the loudest possible volume. The short attention spans and tempers. The spilling of drinks and accidental breaking of shit. Not to mention the occasional fights and passing out on the couch. It’s uncanny.

Though unlike my genius plan for my grandparents, I’m not sure my brother would appreciate me getting shitfaced before I baby-sit. -Writer: Worm Miller-

For the original article, go here.

Don't forget to bring a towel!

A towel, it says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapors; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-bogglingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough. More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: non-hitch hiker) discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have "lost". What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through, and still knows where his towel is is clearly a man to be reckoned with.
					— Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

1 in 60 men = rapist!

I'm prolly not a rapist, you can never be sure, and I prolly don't come over as a rapist, I hope. But that doesn't really matter in this case 'cuz I'm not the greatest at striking op conversation with strange women, I'm always thinkin' that they might be serial killing psychos or rapists, and actually I'm too bored when other people talk, so I can only listen to people I already know as they're kinda interesting.. In most cases I just want people to listen to me, and in first time convos that is just not often the case! Anyway here's a woman's view on the whole approached by a strange man thing, it's funny and insightful, full of great tips! (for my friends who are hoping on a train romance ;) )

Phaedra Starling is the pen name of a romance novelist and licensed private investigator living in small New York City apartment with two large dogs. She practices Brazilian jiu-jitsu and makes world-class apricot muffins.

Gentlemen. Thank you for reading.

Let me start out by assuring you that I understand you are a good sort of person. You are kind to children and animals. You respect the elderly. You donate to charity. You tell jokes without laughing at your own punchlines. You respect women. You like women. In fact, you would really like to have a mutually respectful and loving sexual relationship with a woman. Unfortunately, you don’t yet know that woman—she isn’t working with you, nor have you been introduced through mutual friends or drawn to the same activities. So you must look further afield to encounter her.

So far, so good. Miss LonelyHearts, your humble instructor, approves. Human connection, love, romance: there is nothing wrong with these yearnings.

Now, you want to become acquainted with a woman you see in public. The first thing you need to understand is that women are dealing with a set of challenges and concerns that are strange to you, a man. To begin with, we would rather not be killed or otherwise violently assaulted.

“But wait! I don’t want that, either!”

Well, no. But do you think about it all the time? Is preventing violent assault or murder part of your daily routine, rather than merely something you do when you venture into war zones? Because, for women, it is. When I go on a date, I always leave the man’s full name and contact information written next to my computer monitor. This is so the cops can find my body if I go missing. My best friend will call or e-mail me the next morning, and I must answer that call or e-mail before noon-ish, or she begins to worry. If she doesn’t hear from me by three or so, she’ll call the police. My activities after dark are curtailed. Unless I am in a densely-occupied, well-lit space, I won’t go out alone. Even then, I prefer to have a friend or two, or my dogs, with me. Do you follow rules like these?

So when you, a stranger, approach me, I have to ask myself: Will this man rape me?

Do you think I’m overreacting? One in every six American women will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime. I bet you don’t think you know any rapists, but consider the sheer number of rapes that must occur. These rapes are not all committed by Phillip Garrido, Brian David Mitchell, or other members of the Brotherhood of Scary Hair and Homemade Religion. While you may assume that none of the men you know are rapists, I can assure you that at least one is. Consider: if every rapist commits an average of ten rapes (a horrifying number, isn’t it?) then the concentration of rapists in the population is still a little over one in sixty. That means four in my graduating class in high school. One among my coworkers. One in the subway car at rush hour. Eleven who work out at my gym. How do I know that you, the nice guy who wants nothing more than companionship and True Love, are not this rapist?

I don’t.

When you approach me in public, you are Schrödinger’s Rapist. You may or may not be a man who would commit rape. I won’t know for sure unless you start sexually assaulting me. I can’t see inside your head, and I don’t know your intentions. If you expect me to trust you—to accept you at face value as a nice sort of guy—you are not only failing to respect my reasonable caution, you are being cavalier about my personal safety.

Fortunately, you’re a good guy. We’ve already established that. Now that you’re aware that there’s a problem, you are going to go out of your way to fix it, and to make the women with whom you interact feel as safe as possible.

To begin with, you must accept that I set my own risk tolerance. When you approach me, I will begin to evaluate the possibility you will do me harm. That possibility is never 0%. For some women, particularly women who have been victims of violent assaults, any level of risk is unacceptable. Those women do not want to be approached, no matter how nice you are or how much you’d like to date them. Okay? That’s their right. Don’t get pissy about it. Women are under no obligation to hear the sales pitch before deciding they are not in the market to buy.

The second important point: you must be aware of what signals you are sending by your appearance and the environment. We are going to be paying close attention to your appearance and behavior and matching those signs to our idea of a threat.

This means that some men should never approach strange women in public. Specifically, if you have truly unusual standards of personal cleanliness, if you are the prophet of your own religion, or if you have tattoos of gang symbols or Technicolor cockroaches all over your face and neck, you are just never going to get a good response approaching a woman cold. That doesn’t mean you’re doomed to a life of solitude, but I suggest you start with internet dating, where you can put your unusual traits out there and find a woman who will appreciate them.

Are you wearing a tee-shirt making a rape joke? NOT A GOOD CHOICE—not in general, and definitely not when approaching a strange woman.

Pay attention to the environment. Look around. Are you in a dark alley? Then probably you ought not approach a woman and try to strike up a conversation. The same applies if you are alone with a woman in most public places. If the public place is a closed area (a subway car, an elevator, a bus), even a crowded one, you may not realize that the woman’s ability to flee in case of threat is limited. Ask yourself, “If I were dangerous, would this woman be safe in this space with me?” If the answer is no, then it isn’t appropriate to approach her.

On the other hand, if you are both at church accompanied by your mothers, who are lifelong best friends, the woman is as close as it comes to safe. That is to say, still not 100% safe. But the odds are pretty good.

The third point: Women are communicating all the time. Learn to understand and respect women’s communication to you.

You want to say Hi to the cute girl on the subway. How will she react? Fortunately, I can tell you with some certainty, because she’s already sending messages to you. Looking out the window, reading a book, working on a computer, arms folded across chest, body away from you = do not disturb. So, y’know, don’t disturb her. Really. Even to say that you like her hair, shoes, or book. A compliment is not always a reason for women to smile and say thank you. You are a threat, remember? You are Schrödinger’s Rapist. Don’t assume that whatever you have to say will win her over with charm or flattery. Believe what she’s signaling, and back off.

If you speak, and she responds in a monosyllabic way without looking at you, she’s saying, “I don’t want to be rude, but please leave me alone.” You don’t know why. It could be “Please leave me alone because I am trying to memorize Beowulf.” It could be “Please leave me alone because you are a scary, scary man with breath like a water buffalo.” It could be “Please leave me alone because I am planning my assassination of a major geopolitical figure and I will have to kill you if you are able to recognize me and blow my cover.”

On the other hand, if she is turned towards you, making eye contact, and she responds in a friendly and talkative manner when you speak to her, you are getting a green light. You can continue the conversation until you start getting signals to back off.

The fourth point: If you fail to respect what women say, you label yourself a problem.

There’s a man with whom I went out on a single date—afternoon coffee, for one hour by the clock—on July 25th. In the two days after the date, he sent me about fifteen e-mails, scolding me for non-responsiveness. I e-mailed him back, saying, “Look, this is a disproportionate response to a single date. You are making me uncomfortable. Do not contact me again.” It is now October 7th. Does he still e-mail?

Yeah. He does. About every two weeks.

This man scores higher on the threat level scale than Man with the Cockroach Tattoos. (Who, after all, is guilty of nothing more than terrifying bad taste.) You see, Mr. E-mail has made it clear that he ignores what I say when he wants something from me. Now, I don’t know if he is an actual rapist, and I sincerely hope he’s not. But he is certainly Schrödinger’s Rapist, and this particular Schrödinger’s Rapist has a probability ratio greater than one in sixty. Because a man who ignores a woman’s NO in a non-sexual setting is more likely to ignore NO in a sexual setting, as well.

So if you speak to a woman who is otherwise occupied, you’re sending a subtle message. It is that your desire to interact trumps her right to be left alone. If you pursue a conversation when she’s tried to cut it off, you send a message. It is that your desire to speak trumps her right to be left alone. And each of those messages indicates that you believe your desires are a legitimate reason to override her rights.

For women, who are watching you very closely to determine how much of a threat you are, this is an important piece of data.

The fifth and last point: Don’t rape. Nor should you commit these similar but less severe offenses: don’t assault. Don’t grope. Don’t constrain. Don’t brandish. Don’t expose yourself. Don’t threaten with physical violence. Don’t threaten with sexual violence.

Shouldn’t this go without saying? Of course it should. Sadly, that’s not the world I live in. You may be beginning to realize that it’s not the world you live in, either.

Miss LonelyHearts wishes you happiness and success in your search for romantic companionship.

Dolan's Cadilac

I read this book, earlier this summer, love Stephen King!

Typoglycemia.

I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Aamznig huh? yaeh and I awlyas thought slpeling was ipmorantt.

Ik wist dit al langer, maar het blijft grappig.

Great Lies To Tell Small Kids.

I'm a big fan of The Bunny Suicides books, and as you see above the author has a new series, Great Lies To Tell Small Kids, it's so funny! I want it! Check it out!

Van Aarsgewei Tot Zwitserland!

Henk Schiffmacher, alias Hanky Panky, en beter bekend als de tattoekoning heeft in zijn leven al heel wat kunstwerkjes op allerlei lijven getekend, mensen als Kurt Cobain, Herman Brood, Pearl Jam,... kwamen bij hem aankloppen voor wat werk. Nu is de man al een tijdje op pensioen en wat doet zo'n man dan? Wel reizen en boeken schrijven, zijn laatste boek is het Lexicon Der Tatoeages, een encyclopedie waarvoor hij zelf in de kleinste stammen van Guadalumpur een kijkje ging nemen!

Tatoeëerder en klant.

Hanky Panky toont eigen tatoeages.

Japanse Tatoeage

Maori Tatoeage

Voorbeeld uit een tatoeage-verzameling.

Redacteur Lambert Teuwissen van het NOS-journaal zei er dit over:

"De Maori's voetbalden met de hoofden van hun ongetatoeëerde vijanden. Bij de vrouwen van de Zuid-Amerikaanse Mokovi-stam diende een tatoeage als voorbereiding op de barenspijnen. In Albanië onderscheidden katholieken zich van moslims door religieuze symbolen aan te brengen.

In Het Lexicon der Tatoeages verzamelde tatoekoning Henk Schiffmacher duizenden verhalen, figuren en gebruiken in een vuistdik naslagwerk over zijn vak. "Als ik me kwaad maak, kan ik er nog wel zo eentje schrijven, er is meer dan genoeg."

Zijn eigen interesse gaat vooral uit naar de periode dat getatoeëerden nog rondreisden om hun lichaam te laten bekijken. "Het ontstaan van de musea, de circusmensen, dat is wat ik het leukste vind. Het was een zeer avontuurlijk gebeuren: men zag voor het eerst dat soort dingen en nam kennis van het avontuur over zee en de pelgrims die dingen meebrachten uit een ver oord."

Verdwenen
"Wat mij vooral heel veel plezier heeft gedaan, zijn die vroege ontdekkingsreizigers, Spaanse paters en figuren die daar in Mexico zijn beland en allerlei fantastische avonturen hebben beleefd."

"En ook de Pacific-mannen, als Cook en Krusenstern. Al die mannen die op de Bounty zaten, hebben ook een lange tijd op Tahiti doorgebracht. Die mannen waren allemaal getatoeëerd. Kapitein Bligh heeft bij terugkeer in Engeland bij de admiraliteit nauwkeurige beschrijvingen gemaakt van al die muiters."

"Hij somt daarin heel nauwkeurig op hoe die mannen getatoeëerd waren. Dat geeft ons een verslag van de tatoeages zoals die bestonden in Tahiti, en zoals die uiteindelijk verdwenen zijn in een vrij korte periode van contact met het Westen."

Verboden
Niet alleen op de eilanden in de Stille Oceaan kregen tatoeages het moeilijk, met enige regelmaat werden tatoeages ook elders verboden. Zo kende het toch zo liberale New York jarenlang een verbod, valt te lezen in het Lexicon.

"Er zijn heel veel staten in Amerika en ook landen waar tatoeages verboden zijn geweest, met name landen waarin verschillende dictaturen geheerst hebben. Marcos, Soeharto, Hitler, Mussolini. Ten tijde van dictatuur was het altijd verboden."

"Men zoekt een simpele kijk op het bestaan, zo van: hoe ziet een crimineel er uit? En bij dat vooroordeel horen tatoeages, dus men pakt criminaliteit aan door dat te verbieden. Bij Hitler was er nog dat idee van een reine geest in een rein lichaam, die halve macrobiotische levenswijze binnen het nazidom van een schoon en atletisch lichaam."

"Het lichaam is een tempel, dus ik zou zeggen: versier dat ding."

Versieren
Versieren heeft Schiffmacher zelf ook veelvuldig gedaan: zijn eigen lichaam kan net zo goed als een naslagwerk dienen. "Als ik wil weten wanneer ik in Moskou was, dan kan ik dat op mijn arm opzoeken."

"Ik heb een heel rommeltje vergaard over de hele wereld en dat is eigenlijk precies mijn denken en mijn leven: heel rommelig, maar met heel veel info van heel veel verschillende plekken."

"Het is een beetje mijn kerfstok geworden. Ze komen uit verschillende landen en er zitten stukken bij die ik heel erg koester, maar die heel vaak te maken met het avontuur waarin ze zijn aangebracht."

Verhalen
Dat idee van een kerfstok is ook aanwezig in een van de specifieke velden van tatoeages die Schiffmacher fascineren: gevangenistatoeages.

"Mensen doen moeite om hun eigen verhaal op zichzelf te laten tatoeëren, omdat dat verhaal naar eigen denken niet genoeg gehoord is. Ze laten zich sieren als een soort poging om het verdriet, het diepste van hun ziel te laten zien, dat wat ze gedaan hebben."

In het boek staan verschillende voorbeelden van gevangenistradities. Hoe een Christusfiguur op de rug de drager tegen zweepslagen beschermt: geen enkele beul zal Jezus willen geselen. Of hoe Russische criminelen uitdagend hakenkruizen lieten zetten, het symbool van de aartsvijand van de Sovjet-Unie.

"Het zijn allemaal non-verbale manieren van communiceren, proberen iets te vertellen van wat er in je omgaat. Het is altijd zo'n ten hemelschreiende poging om te communiceren."

Henk Schiffmacher - Lexicon der tatoeages: van Aarsgewei tot Zwitserland, Dutch Media, ISBN: 9789048801190, €39,90"

The Wimpy Kid!

In Leuven is this REALLY cool comic bookstore and I just love to go there last year, cuz it was really close to the record store. And I bought some cool books there, and then near the end "Diary Of A Wimpy Kid" caught my eye, but I didn't have any money at that time, and when I came back with the money the book was gone! But now after months of waiting my friend Lennert went and got it for me, and I just love it, it's a book with pictures, that takes me back!

The book is about a boy in middle school, who has a big brother that picks on him, a baby brother that annoys him, a retarded best friend, and all the while he's trying to be a normal teenager, so flirting with girls, keeping the parents and teachers happy, it's all in the book but with a fun twist. Because the wimpy kid just isn't that lucky...

Now I found out, the book I have is actually a sequel, and a third part is coming out soon, so I'll want those too...

You can read it here.

Here are a few excerpts to get an idea:

Genesis.

Hi, this is my first attempt to blog, or something like it. From now on I'll be talking about all the things I think are cool, like movies and music and such, and also things that I think are lame. You will also be able to find some things I made on this blog, movies, drawings and maybe even some music. Perhaps in the end you might even learn something, I doubt it but it's possible. And because I'm still thinking which language to choose for this blog, my messages will differ, sometimes it will be in English, sometimes Dutch and rarely French, it depends my mood.

The first thing you've seen that I made is the image of this message, which is an adaptation of a "Calvin And Hobbes" Comic by Bill Watterson. I think that the guy is a genius, if you don't know the comic yet, you should check it out, here are some links:
Daily Episodes of the comic duo
Calvin And Hobbes quotes: a joyous insight of the mind of a 6-year old.

Enjoy!