Saturday, March 28, 2009

He is awfully cute, but...


... I can see where it’s headed... Jules, at three years, has fallen prey to a first onslaught of phallo-mania. And although he is still praising every inch of the female body, his most profound fascination rests on his own physique, or rather, more precisely, all three centimeters of it. By way of example, today in the car, we were all informed (and I tried my best to return the favor) about the male anatomy:

Jules: “My penis can get big very, very fast.”
I countered: “Sure, Jules, it will also get little again very, very fast if you stop yanking on it.”
Jules: “No!”
I insisted: “Oh yes. And guess what: that’s a good thing. Because
sticking out like that, it looks a bit silly and definitely inappropriate under the circumstances. That, I am sure, no
one present would deny."
Jules (grins): “I would deny it.”

See what I mean...

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Just for the record

I do not believe women to be better than men. All I know is that they have reaped less havoc on the world for reasons that may very well lie beyond their consciousness. It is simply a fact that they haven’t. It is men not women who fill prisons, and who commit the worst violent crimes. Serial killers and mass murderers are notoriously male.

But still I wouldn’t say that men are worse human beings than women, simply because the human consciousness is quite over-rated. Most of the time we are sleep walking. I believe that most of our actions follow a preset course that has proven successful throughout evolution. In that, humans do not differ very much from other species, whether primates, dogs, or ducks.

The dominant male, who will resort to force and violence if deemed necessary, has prevailed. And so has the accommodating female, who will seek to promote her lot by seeking an alliance with him (whatever the cost).

And even if there are examples that seem to indicate that times are changing, these cases are still a) rare and b) usually less successful. Just take the rate of female CEOs who remain childless. That gene pool is not going to make it very far now, is it?

But what I am saying is that for the sake of humanity, and as such, the dignity of our species, we have to move beyond hackneyed responses such as “boys will be boys” or “women are just as bad” and instead be brave enough to call a spade a spade.

Instead of cementing the status quo we must point out harmful patterns in our immediate environment as well as on a larger scale and try our best to come up with strategies to eradicate them.

And sorry, Mr. Ratzinger (alias Benedict XVI), condoms are not the issue at hand. Really, you need to step out of the way where real work needs to be done, you old fart.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Won't Shut Me Up !


I am quite used to being called a “feminist”. And I am also quite aware that often it is not meant as a compliment. I also know that much worse epithets are being attached to my sweet persona behind my back. I have always carried the load with a certain amount of pride. At least, I am not ass-kissing some ninny!

But here is what I find upsetting about all this. It’s the pure ratio of idiots vs non-idiots, with the former in the clear lead. Calling someone a feminist over issues such as
sexual crimes against women, and meaning it as an insult, is clearly misguided. And yet it is not uncommon.

Last time I checked, the right to life and freedom from torture and degrading treatment was a human right, which (surprise, surprise) extends to all human beings, including women.

Kivo (Congo), Darfur (Sudan), or -- maybe a bit closer to home -- Serbia in the 90s, is a threat to everyone and, in fact, to humanity as a whole. We should all be aware of this and no blind eye should be turned for whatever reason but most definitely not out of mere mental laziness.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Zoom Zoom Zoom !



I got up early last Saturday and ambled down the hill to catch the train to Brussels, Belgium. A truly amazing thing that train is. It’s called the Eurostar because it connects the UK with the mainland or, as they like to say here, Europe.

Setting out on its trip from London, it only stops a couple of times in Kent County before it burrows itself into the continental plate only to reappear thirty minutes later on the other side of the English Channel, that little strip of water that separates this island from the buzzing multicultural whirl of mainland Europe. The two top destinations are Paris reachable in a little under three hours, and Brussels in ninety minutes of high speed journey through low lying fields.

I am truly glad the train is making a come-back. It is, after all, the mode of transportation with the daintiest CO2 footprint. It is technology at its best and while contemplating it, I am awed, inspired and ever so slightly amused thinking that autism in its daily occurrence can produce truly amazing output. I am not fully convinced, however, we need space shuttles, semi-automatic handguns, and Viagra.

But the Eurostar is a sight to behold.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

still popping ibuprofen

ouch! As I am writing this I am in brain-numbing pain from that spill I took a couple of weeks ago. So will leave the rest to G.Bernard Shaw who flippantly remarked: "A lifetime of happiness! No man alive could bear it: it would be hell on earth." Not sure whether woman agrees though.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Oh Boy!


There is no way of denying it: Julian’s shipment of 100% of the purest and most unadulterated testosterone has come in. As of ten days ago everything has turned into turbo power mode. His sneakers are power-shoes, his pants have rocket implants in them, and any noise level below 10,0000 decibel is greeted with mocking disregard. He is fighting invisible three-headed dragons behind living room doors and has nothing but scorn for objects (and people) who resist his dominance. He hasn’t conquered gravity yet, which causes him sufficient grief, but at the rate he is going, I am sure, it will only be a matter of time before he is airborne.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Taking a Break

I went away with the kids for a week. It was one of the deals where there is something for everyone. Playgrounds, pools, and bike tracks for the children, a spa, restaurants, and fluffy duvets for the parents.

What a treat! And it almost worked out except that two days into it I got a little cocky and in less than 130 minutes managed to spit my lip open on a water slide, jam my jaw, acquire several unseemly bruises, and painfully strain my arm by tripping over a bike rack while on a hasty night-time prowl.

In fact, I came out of that little joyful adventure so torn and twisted that Matt had to come to the rescue and pick us up, which he dutifully did.