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Apparently Vikings lay eyes on the lush green shores of Newfoundland long before Columbus. Hundreds of them landed on a desolate strand. Why didn’t they last? Easy. They were “.. 135 men and 15 women” according to Nordic sagas. From Wikipedia: “The site was only used for 2 or 3 years. Intergroup conflict over women and unexpected weather have both been suggested as the cause for its abandonment…” Poor guys, no one wants to get in such a conflict.

Populism

Sassy blogmaking: Wonkette. Pay attention to the trophy cliché profile of the writer at the top. NY Times on Wonkette.

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As someone said: “Time for picking up what to do during the rest”, Sometimes abundance of choice is a curse.

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Four players: a bearded mathematician, a baffled engineer, the Sandra Boticelli’s girl and the engineer’s notebook. We are lost behind San Marco. I’d rather lose the others. It is full moon tonight. The sound of water licking the edges of ancient ponds makes minds sleepless.
“We are lost”, the girl is whining, I know she knows more than all of us about this town and about these threatening old towers and unknown tight tubes of vacuum between algaeous green-black canals, it is Venice man! The romanticism will be buried here. I will be brave enough to accept that words are faceless. And what is their use anyway? Betraying the betrayed, bitterer than all those battered walls in Berlin.

In a bus in Berlin where bullet riddled walls remind at every second what has happened in the unfortunate city, I gazed at this guy with a pair of round metal glasses, drinking from his bottle which he is cuddling after each gulp. Sweaty with shameful and guilty eyes which look grim as much as the majority of the Berliner eyes do. Feeling my gaze, he bursts in anger: Unintelligible harsh German words, begin being shot at my face. He recognizes I am not reacting. Now I hear..
“What are you looking at? What? You arrogant Spy-Nazi”
Everybody becomes dead quiet. I am expecting the bottle at the back of my head.

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Called after ages:
“
Dude, my cat died today!
Are you still my friend?
”

Possible Worlds

Have you noticed it really doesn’t matter if geographical maps be upside down or not? just imagine the world map with Australia on the top left corner! Imagine tierra del fuego in the top right with the tip tending toward left.
What if the Southerners had conquered the world? The British island in that lonely corner down there.

“The Trial”

I am the agent who is appointed to read this blog. I will ask him tomorrow if he really believes in what he writes. That we again can meet at any place he wants, in a coffee shop, in a parking lot, in a pub. Or we can take him to the office because it is more comfortable here. I will interrogate him here. We will be polite.

Coming of age

As soon as we see life as a chance of more forty or fifty more years, then it is the time to wonder. At that time we have passed a bridge we won’t pass twice. It is coming out of the rebellious seconds of a revolting youth to the boring years of the rest. I see it coming, I hide on a detour.

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He is reading this. In a corner of a “coffee shop” he sits. He wants to talk to the strangers. He wants to know if they ever get bored and do stupid things. “Did you accept the offer?” Poor guy, I look at his teeth blackened by the pain and stress. He listens to the phone calls.
Coffee shop! Coffee shop! What else can one find in a Caufie shop?
He throws away the book: “it is overrated buddy, it is overrated.” He is smoking a horn. He shakes the torch toward me. “I am with the girl in the photo”, and he knows he has found the photo in some weathered Brecht shit sold in a rainy used bookstore in Amsterdam. “I am in love with her”, he believes. I know, we all are.

He goes out of the window.

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I destroy and build; keeps me busy for several weeks.