I was watching the Olympics yesterday and they showed a clip from one of the Dutch commentators on a sports network I never watch. The woman, herself a former skater, made comments on an Italian couple that was figure skating and she was beating them senseless with words, ridiculing every movement they made. Since they were dressed like gypsies I couldn't help but fully agree with her, but still it was fascinating to hear a commentator bash atletes this openly.
The problem is that being brutally honest may be fun to strangers who don't understand what you're actually saying, but when you have to criticize friends, family members or other less or more loved ones in one way or another, often times it hits home quite hard.
Case in point; a guy I used to know in high school became sort of the president of the student body (however no elections were held and he was the only candidate) and started acting a little, well cocky. So I co-wrote a highly intellectual, very intelligent, very mature article in the school newspaper criticizing him and his administration....
Yes. I called him a Nazi.
The article wasn't allowed in the paper because the principal refused to publish it, so we wrote a second article complaining about the decision not to publish the first one in which we basically called the school principal a Nazi (come on people! running gags! they're funny! work with me here!). This article did get published but the guy I wrote about basically didn't speak to me for a year (and honestly who can blame him).
This may not be the best example of lovingly reminding a person of some of his or hers less than perfect qualities (mine for instance are calling people Nazi's for no reason) but how do you do it? How can you respectfully point out a flaw to a loved one or friend-of-sorts without having them hate your guts? Being the genius I am (overestimating myself might also be one of my flaws) I came up with one pretty darn good solution.
A telephone service for crushing dreams.
You can just call them, explain the problem and then a nice friendly woman with a warm voice calls your friend and tells them "Hello, we've received word you are considering a carreer in stand up comedy and/or musical. Well, we know you are a kind hearted person that people love but unfortunately you are not funny, so you probably shouldn't. Have a nice day!".
As long as everybody acts mature and only uses it when really necessary I think this will be a huge hit. Don't you? Oh be brutally honest.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Brokeback Mountain
I want to see Brokeback Mountain. That in itself should not be a problem since I live in a big city with many movie theatres where no fanatical Christian, Jewish or Muslim theocracy has taken over city government (yet). Unfortunately I am one of those people who feels that unlike sex, most things are more fun with somebody else aside from yourself along for the ride*.
And there's the problem.
Most of my female friends (or at least those in touch with their inner fag hag) also want to see the movie but unfortunately my female friends are poor. Not begging on the streets in rags poor, but in a month where Hollywood decided to poor out all the good movies here in Amsterdam (aside from Brokeback Mountain there's Munich, Walk the Line, The Aristocrats, Good Night and Good Luck, Bambi 2) I can't be a 100% sure of female Brokeback support.
My straight male friends on the other hand have no intention of seeing this movie. The main reason for this, obviously, are the sex scenes. And this, obviously, is bullshit: the average gay man or woman sees much more guy on girl action throughout his or her life than a straight person sees gay action. Also, this is Hollywood gay action so I'd be surprised if there's more to see than perhaps one shirtless guy. So, basically just stop being a frigging child, shut up and watch.
But then I got thinking. What if next year a movie comes out about lesbian rodeo riders. Would I go and see it? I honestly don't know. I'm pretty sure my straight friends would be camping in front of cinemas throughout the cities months in advance, because, let's face it, girl on girl action AND horses are basically what former teenage boys' dreams are made off (especially the horses... sickos).
I, on the other hand, though I have nothing but positive vibes for Lesbians all over the world and especially those who can keep themselves standing in the, no-doubt, male dominated world of rodeo riding, am not quite sure it would be my movie. Does that make me a biggot? Perhaps if I followed the "The L World" or had gone to see "The Hours" I could have talked my way out of it, but I have seen neither.
Even if all this doesn't make me an anti-Lesbian (it is an actual word, trust me), it certainly does make me a hypocrite if I were to bitch slap my straight male posse (I have one, trust me) for failing to show interest in, what I hear from my gay posse (I have a small one) who have actually seen it, a very impressive movie.
* This obviously is a joke...... really it is#.
# I will be so dissapointed if there's no "Bareback Mountain" for sale in certain not to be named video stores of certain material that we will not go into with too much detail here... and yet again, I will be so much more dissapointed when there is one.
And there's the problem.
Most of my female friends (or at least those in touch with their inner fag hag) also want to see the movie but unfortunately my female friends are poor. Not begging on the streets in rags poor, but in a month where Hollywood decided to poor out all the good movies here in Amsterdam (aside from Brokeback Mountain there's Munich, Walk the Line, The Aristocrats, Good Night and Good Luck, Bambi 2) I can't be a 100% sure of female Brokeback support.
My straight male friends on the other hand have no intention of seeing this movie. The main reason for this, obviously, are the sex scenes. And this, obviously, is bullshit: the average gay man or woman sees much more guy on girl action throughout his or her life than a straight person sees gay action. Also, this is Hollywood gay action so I'd be surprised if there's more to see than perhaps one shirtless guy. So, basically just stop being a frigging child, shut up and watch.
But then I got thinking. What if next year a movie comes out about lesbian rodeo riders. Would I go and see it? I honestly don't know. I'm pretty sure my straight friends would be camping in front of cinemas throughout the cities months in advance, because, let's face it, girl on girl action AND horses are basically what former teenage boys' dreams are made off (especially the horses... sickos).
I, on the other hand, though I have nothing but positive vibes for Lesbians all over the world and especially those who can keep themselves standing in the, no-doubt, male dominated world of rodeo riding, am not quite sure it would be my movie. Does that make me a biggot? Perhaps if I followed the "The L World" or had gone to see "The Hours" I could have talked my way out of it, but I have seen neither.
Even if all this doesn't make me an anti-Lesbian (it is an actual word, trust me), it certainly does make me a hypocrite if I were to bitch slap my straight male posse (I have one, trust me) for failing to show interest in, what I hear from my gay posse (I have a small one) who have actually seen it, a very impressive movie.
* This obviously is a joke...... really it is#.
# I will be so dissapointed if there's no "Bareback Mountain" for sale in certain not to be named video stores of certain material that we will not go into with too much detail here... and yet again, I will be so much more dissapointed when there is one.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Valentine's Day
Bruce Springsteen generally is not the most cheery guy in music (it's working class to be sad you know) but by far one of his most depressing songs, and beautiful, is called Valentine's Day. It's on the Tunnel of Love album and Bruce wrote it right in the middle of a period in which his first marriage was falling apart. In the song he captures the complete sadness of that one day us single folk have grown to despise.
(Yes, yes I mean Valentine's day. What are you? stupid?)
In my humble opinion Valentine's Day, like it's sister holidays Mothersday and Labor Day, is nothing more than a cheap bad tasting fake alternative for actual romance. What is there romantic about setting a fixed date for making people know you care about them? Let me start, by pointing out that an exciting and fiery love life can hardly be expected when you need a date set by Hallmark for you to actually get together.
Second, you won't get together. Valentine cards are anonymous. The point in that is that you are too chicken to walk up to the other person involved and say "Hi, I want you" (ok, maybe another pick up line might be better), which is an emotion I can totally dig, and you're also too chicken to write your name because that is the card-writing way of walking up to someone and say "I want to be your tampon" (hi Charles!).
So in the end, the person you are madly in love with will receive a card without a name and is left to guess who likes him or her. You haven't shown him or her you are, at the very least, interested, so how is that going to work out? I would like to have a list of every couple that got together because of Valentine's Day. My guess is that it's going to be a pretty short one.
And then there are the already existing couples. Valentine's Day is that wonderful moment where you give eachother flowers that smell of the supermarket you bought them in and sit in a restaurant being extremely romantic like all the other people there. I'm not trying to be bitter here (it just comes naturally I guess), but if you need a specific day to show that you love eachother, you might want to have a Dr. Phil moment. Maybe even two.
So for crying out loud, fuck Valentine's Day, Hallmark and all the other fascists that are part of this!
And no, I did not get a card this year.
(Yes, yes I mean Valentine's day. What are you? stupid?)
In my humble opinion Valentine's Day, like it's sister holidays Mothersday and Labor Day, is nothing more than a cheap bad tasting fake alternative for actual romance. What is there romantic about setting a fixed date for making people know you care about them? Let me start, by pointing out that an exciting and fiery love life can hardly be expected when you need a date set by Hallmark for you to actually get together.
Second, you won't get together. Valentine cards are anonymous. The point in that is that you are too chicken to walk up to the other person involved and say "Hi, I want you" (ok, maybe another pick up line might be better), which is an emotion I can totally dig, and you're also too chicken to write your name because that is the card-writing way of walking up to someone and say "I want to be your tampon" (hi Charles!).
So in the end, the person you are madly in love with will receive a card without a name and is left to guess who likes him or her. You haven't shown him or her you are, at the very least, interested, so how is that going to work out? I would like to have a list of every couple that got together because of Valentine's Day. My guess is that it's going to be a pretty short one.
And then there are the already existing couples. Valentine's Day is that wonderful moment where you give eachother flowers that smell of the supermarket you bought them in and sit in a restaurant being extremely romantic like all the other people there. I'm not trying to be bitter here (it just comes naturally I guess), but if you need a specific day to show that you love eachother, you might want to have a Dr. Phil moment. Maybe even two.
So for crying out loud, fuck Valentine's Day, Hallmark and all the other fascists that are part of this!
And no, I did not get a card this year.
Monday, February 06, 2006
Dear David Gray,
Hi there!
Before I start, I would like to say that I was planning on writing this a whole lot earlier, but I got the flu. Yet again. This time I spent three days in bed wondering where the hell I was and making up great ideas like "Why don't I make a bed out of a jacuzzi" and "There are words on my wall (there are in fact none) and there must be some logic behind them" (Paging mr. Brown, paging mr. Dan Brown). So sorry.
The reason I'm writing you, is that a few weeks ago me, my buddy the Squirrel, and the Squirrel's Lovely Girlfriend, were fortunate enough to see you perform live in Tilburg. Up until the start of your concert we wondered, maybe too loudly, why the hell you insist on playing there and not go to somewhere civilized like Amsterdam or, if you must, Rotterdam. I have nothing against cities I don't live in - although they clearly lack a certain moi - but Tilburg.... I shall explain.
We arrived a little before 6 pm and started walking towards the city centre for some food and cash machines. Most cities would generally have that, but unfortunately Tilburg wants to be special so neither could be found. In fact, all stores were already closed and the streets were completely empty leaving us, and - being the most Amsterdam minded - me, walking around feeling like we had ended up in an episode of the Twilight Zone (but since none of us could hum that theme song we moved it to an X files episode).
We did manage to get some cash and even to get some food, although we might be stretching the definition a little, and even managed to be right on time at the concert hall. And then we waited another hour and a half for you to actually begin playing but I won't complain, you started on time.
And you blew us away. From the very first word of 'Alibi' to the very last word of 'Babylon'. Your band was amazing, the music was among the best I have ever heard live, and your voice was taking our collective breath away.
Unfortunately something else was also taking our collective breath away; smokers. I dont know why but for some reason a David Gray concert audience - or at least a part of it - looks a lot like a smokers anonymous meeting. Although I am not a very violent person by nature (everybody reading this blog will agree with me on that... OR I'LL BREAK ALL THEIR F*CKING BONES!!!... cheap jokes, can't beat em) I had the urge several times when you were pouring your heart out about this year's love or something and one of the morons lighting up another cigarett to take it and burn their eye, but something told me that might intervere with the concert experience.
After the concert, the Squirrel's Lovely Girlfriend announced she wanted to marry you and with that she pretty much mirrored how all of us felt (well... maybe not the Squirrel, but screw it he's already a really bad metrosexual). However, seeing that open letter marriage proposals generally don't seem to work (Orlando, email me), I would like to ask something else.
How expensive would it be to have you live in a corner of my appartment for a year? You can bring your own guitar, and I might be able to get a piano of some sorts. All you have to do is play some of your songs once a day. Hits or new songs or covers, I really don't care. You can sit in my comfy chair and I'm willing to let you have the bed a few nights a week. Hell, I'll even feed you (not well of course, I'm poor).
Interested? Gimme a call.
Love,
Boris
PS. if you want to you can use the bed-jacuzzi idea for a song.
PS.2. The Dan Brown thing is mine though
Before I start, I would like to say that I was planning on writing this a whole lot earlier, but I got the flu. Yet again. This time I spent three days in bed wondering where the hell I was and making up great ideas like "Why don't I make a bed out of a jacuzzi" and "There are words on my wall (there are in fact none) and there must be some logic behind them" (Paging mr. Brown, paging mr. Dan Brown). So sorry.
The reason I'm writing you, is that a few weeks ago me, my buddy the Squirrel, and the Squirrel's Lovely Girlfriend, were fortunate enough to see you perform live in Tilburg. Up until the start of your concert we wondered, maybe too loudly, why the hell you insist on playing there and not go to somewhere civilized like Amsterdam or, if you must, Rotterdam. I have nothing against cities I don't live in - although they clearly lack a certain moi - but Tilburg.... I shall explain.
We arrived a little before 6 pm and started walking towards the city centre for some food and cash machines. Most cities would generally have that, but unfortunately Tilburg wants to be special so neither could be found. In fact, all stores were already closed and the streets were completely empty leaving us, and - being the most Amsterdam minded - me, walking around feeling like we had ended up in an episode of the Twilight Zone (but since none of us could hum that theme song we moved it to an X files episode).
We did manage to get some cash and even to get some food, although we might be stretching the definition a little, and even managed to be right on time at the concert hall. And then we waited another hour and a half for you to actually begin playing but I won't complain, you started on time.
And you blew us away. From the very first word of 'Alibi' to the very last word of 'Babylon'. Your band was amazing, the music was among the best I have ever heard live, and your voice was taking our collective breath away.
Unfortunately something else was also taking our collective breath away; smokers. I dont know why but for some reason a David Gray concert audience - or at least a part of it - looks a lot like a smokers anonymous meeting. Although I am not a very violent person by nature (everybody reading this blog will agree with me on that... OR I'LL BREAK ALL THEIR F*CKING BONES!!!... cheap jokes, can't beat em) I had the urge several times when you were pouring your heart out about this year's love or something and one of the morons lighting up another cigarett to take it and burn their eye, but something told me that might intervere with the concert experience.
After the concert, the Squirrel's Lovely Girlfriend announced she wanted to marry you and with that she pretty much mirrored how all of us felt (well... maybe not the Squirrel, but screw it he's already a really bad metrosexual). However, seeing that open letter marriage proposals generally don't seem to work (Orlando, email me), I would like to ask something else.
How expensive would it be to have you live in a corner of my appartment for a year? You can bring your own guitar, and I might be able to get a piano of some sorts. All you have to do is play some of your songs once a day. Hits or new songs or covers, I really don't care. You can sit in my comfy chair and I'm willing to let you have the bed a few nights a week. Hell, I'll even feed you (not well of course, I'm poor).
Interested? Gimme a call.
Love,
Boris
PS. if you want to you can use the bed-jacuzzi idea for a song.
PS.2. The Dan Brown thing is mine though
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