Archive for the ‘feeling tycho-y’ Category

Sherlock Aga and the Case of the Foul Fragrance

Sunday, November 24th, 2013

Sherlock Holmes silhouetteSherlock was seated on the couch, deeply engrossed in her latest experiment. I went to the kitchen, and noticed a rather particular smell. “Do you smell that, Aga?”
“Hmmms what?”
“That smell — not quite a delicate bouquet, wouldn’t you say?”
“Not quite sure,” she said while focusing back on her experiment.
“Perhaps it’s the garbage,” I ventured.
“Uh-huh,” came the non-committing reply.

After disposing of the garbage, I figured that was one case cracked by Dr. Ir. Watson Hugo, and I walked around proud as a peacock. Of course, I should have known better. The next morning, the fragrance persisted and had, if anything, turned fouler. Sherlock noticed it too, but couldn’t be bothered to turn the awesome power of her nose to this particular case. In the mean time, I myself, rather set back by my clear failure, took to round two with heart. Both collections of recyclables, paper and glass, were disposed, and the blue bag for plastic recyclables was condemned to the garage. Furthermore, the sink was thoroughly cleaned. With this, I will admit to a pleased smile – although I was not convinced the malfeasant aroma had been successfully combatted, at least I had significantly reduced the number of safe houses it could turn to.

Returning in the evening, I was greeted by an even more powerful smell. This could no longer be, and I pleaded with Sherlock to make use of her nose for the living quality of our premises. She conceded, and quickly identified the culprit: the smell was coming from the refrigerator. We took some steps to block or lessen the foul odour’s intrusion path, and made up our minds to contact a handyman the next morning (it being Sunday).

The next evening, the handyman was present and together, he and I managed to remove the refrigerator from its enclosure. There was a rather ugly-looking stain in the enclosure, which the handyman identified knowingly as the source of the stench. However, after having cleaned it, the smell still persisted. When Sherlock Aga returned home, she was hit by the smell, and (this time without pleading) enlisted the use of her nose. The culprit was swiftly identified: above the motor of the refrigerator, there was a plastic compartment to contain fluids that leaked from the interior of the fridge there. This compartment housed a foul-looking liquid, which turned out to be the cause of the foul fragrance.

Upon further investigation, Sherlock Aga managed to trace the origins to a pot of pickles. When she had stored the pot lying instead of upright in the fridge, the pot started leaking…

Decay of the English language

Tuesday, October 9th, 2012

Not a native speaker here. Nevertheless, I am often gripped with laughter when someone spots “sins against English”.

Time I added one myself: This page talks about a need to explain the “symbology”. This was addressed far better than I could ever do it below:

Wake up & SPORT!

Wednesday, August 20th, 2008

Woohoo! It is 9:00 right now, and I did my sports for today already! Running went especially okay — well, the first 45-50 minutes at least. Since I ran for an hour (as planned), that is really perfect! Am forcing myself right now to have breakfast. After the exertion, my body is not really in the mood for digestion, but it does seem unwise to hazard starting the day without sustenance.

Got a potential holiday / long weekend coming up too, will check on that today. All in all: things could’ve been worse :)

Now playing: Super Paper Mario (Chap 2-4).
Now reading: Walter Moers – Die 13½ Leben des Käpt’n’s Blaubär

George Lucas would take his hat off

Sunday, March 23rd, 2008

For the last couple of months, the Netherlands (or at least media attention there) has been enthralled by the announcement of one politician to become a movie director. What makes a good politician is a highly debatable and subjective topic. But let’s ‘fess up to facts: Wilders’ public statements, however much they may be frowned upon by part of the populace, reach into the hearts of another part of that populace.

(note for the sarcastically challenged: this part with an extra left margin, is a blatant, albeit haphazard, attempt at witticisms and entertainment, having little to do with reality.)
It’s realisations like that which do evoke feelings of detachement with my previous nation of residence after having displaced myself sufficiently far away. Unfortunately, the world is not populated by people who have the good taste to share my opinion. To add insult to injury, for some reason not all of them are dutifully dismayed by their lack of decent opinions. And a vocal minority — in the reality I inhabit, this is by necessity a minority — even portrays the audacity of speaking out the deviating and worrisome products of their non-conformant minds.

Undeniably, Wilders has found an audience to which he caters well. This alone indicates his proficiency in a certain area — whether or not to label this as ‘politics’ is a topic I shall not dwell on now. What I will address, is his dabbling into directing. Or, more specifically: his alleged, hypothetical dabbling into directing.

So, for those of you who have been living under a rock or in America (which might amount to the same thing, but that’s a topic for another post :), or both, a short synopsis of the events that are unfolding. Mr. Geert Wilders is a Dutch politician, formerly part of the Democratic Party. He parted ways with that party after repeated remarks on his side that the party deemed inappropriate. Most of these remarks involved immigrant policy. He then began his own party, and come election time, garnered quite a number of votes. Ever since his departure from the Democratic party, his remarks on immigrants steadily progressed to a point where he now is the Netherlands foremost anti-islamic activist. To further his views, he took it upon himself to create a movie which would unveil the Koran for the fascistic work he holds it to be.

His plans became public knowledge (as I understand it, through no plan of his own, but because the Dutch Prime minister leaked them. In my view, this underlines (once again) the fact that the Dutch Prime minister is unfit for this job). This resulted in a hype which makes the hype surrounding Episode 1 seem like another news report of the 100th birthday of some old geezer.

And, as if the resulting media storm in the Netherlands and in Europe is not sufficient, the news has made its way to Islamic countries. To be sure there are no misunderstandings: the news that a movie will be made. This news resulted in riots in islamic countries, outrage by islamic politicians, diplomatic pressure on the Netherlands to ban the movie before it exists, strained relations with several islamic countries, talks at the highest level in NATO, top-meetings with Australians (as their military aid is working in close proximity to the Dutch military aid to Afghanistan), etc. etc. etc.

All this turmoil and upheaval. All for a movie that does not exist yet. George Lucas must be green with envy.

Let’s take a moment to make my position clear on this: I wholeheartedly disagree with mr. Wilders’ public statements on ethnics and the islam. I find them rather abhorrent, and they leave an ill impression of his character with me. Be that as it may, this does not rob him of his right to make abhorrent statements — as far as allowed by the law.I will not address whether the law is insufficient in this case.

The hype has so far produced two questionable results: first, in the “western” world, discussions are on-going on whether or not to forbid this movie — which is still a hypothetical piece! Pro-active, a priori censorship is something I do not equate with a free, tolerant and open democracy.

Secondly, in the islamic world, the reactions have been equally heavy-handed. People adhering to Islamic faith are wonderfully complementing the dire message of mr. Wilders by rioting, threats, diplomacy issues, etc. They seem to be going out of their way to outline, emphasize and shout mr. Wilders’ point. It hilariously saddens me to perceive that the best way mr. Wilders can attempt to illustrate his case is to let the general outrage over his movie run its course, occasionally feed it with another scrap, and never have an actual movie.

I fear less a society where I am confronted with views deviating strongly from my own, than fearing a society which suppresses the inception of a potentially deviating view. Do not fear Wilders, his movie or his message. Fear ignorance unhampered by restraint, untempered by deliberation.

Update: Not the best movie about the Quran ever made is online now.

Ran again!

Sunday, February 3rd, 2008

Finally, I managed to get my sporty rhythm back. Or at least, the barest remnants of it were uncovered once more in the deep cavities of my memories. In the beginning, I discovered a flaw (do not drink fruit juice prior to running), and an obstacle (moderate counter wind has a far stronger influence than previously anticipated). Thankfully, the latter was mitigated by altering the course from the open fields to running into the residential area. This also had an ameliorating effect on the former. Stark ignorance of the issue complemented the remedial approach applied towards the former. On the whole, this proved to be sufficient, if not totally satisfactory. Upon arriving at my abode, the complete absence of wind made me feel ballsy, and I decided to prolong the endeavour a bit further. However, upon completing extension one (the possibility of a further extension was present), I happened upon a co-inhabitant of my residence, waiting for the bus. I stopped for a short talk and discovered my co-inhabitant was in the process of moving out, so instead of swiftly continuing, I called an end to my route and waved her off.

All in all, a 34 minute run. Could’ve been slightly better, but given the feeling after 14 minutes, slightly amazing I made it further. The new knee support might have had a positive influence here too :)

Empowering the uni, part deux

Saturday, October 20th, 2007

It was — nay, it is and remains! — beyond credibility. There has to exist a bound upon the amount of de-facilitisations that can occur within any given time frame. The incessant continuity of the deprivations stretches the mind that attempts to encompass its totality. Taken individually, the events masquerade as mere inconveniences. However, upon investigation their mundanity is as elusive as an ivory-billed woodpecker. The only conclusion remaining is that these events rely upon a steady expenditure of black magic, fueled by Dark Forces, no doubt as parts of an overarching plan involving multiple layers, if not several dimensions, of Hell itself.

What commences as a seemingly innocent power outage, rapidly outgrows this nomenclature as it develops into an incredulity. The henchman of the Dark Forces, who in English goes under the misnomer guise of Super, fulfills his Master’s dark desires and compounds the situation — by his non-presence. Where this in a brighter world would have been cause for joy, if not outright celebration, in the confines of our convent, undoubtedly built using cold-riveted girders with selenium cores, the impact of this plays on a different level altogether.

His ability to ignore pleas for help from various damsels in distress (and may I remind you, attentive reader, that I am describing an abode whose populace is virtually solely comprised of youthful, female students — the word luscious needs  to be redefined to capture the merest hint of seductive allure present), after the progressive stages of the disease that plagues the residents had to lead to a breaking point. No mere landlord-alike occupying functionary sufficed — the issue at hand (an unabating fire alarm, going strongly (very strongly) for already over an hour) was taken to the penultimate overarching lordness of lords: the rector magnificus. The response of the Dark Ones was as predictable as it was perfectly timed: no sooner had the delegates left the region subject to the ever-protruding, hateful tones of the alarm, or the alarm ceased.

Nevertheless, admiration is due to any force able to squeeze two full-night power outages, a weekend of no connectivity, a breakdown in hot water and the previous mentions pleasure within a period lasting a mere seven days. While the situation seems to have settled in a state previously described as “normal”, I will take my leave of this and wonder what I shall find upon my return, a fortnight and then some hence.

Empowering the uni

Friday, October 12th, 2007

Came home yesterday evening, with Ton and Sasa, planning to have a nice cheese fondue at my place. There was a conspicuous absence of light emanating ominously from my building, offset by the cold, harsh light radiating from the fire escape, where a small group of smokers had sought refuge.

Upon further investigation, we became aware that there was a lack of current prevalent in the northwestern wing of the dwelling. This would definitely put a spoke through our cheese fondue, so to say. We do enjoy the luxury of having not merely one, but several alternatives to circumvent the current crisis (unintentional pun there). Hence, we opted to ignore the problems, on the tried and tested adage that if we ignore it long enough, eventually the problem will disappear.

The fondue turned out delicious for most, although those who do not share a fondness or even a liking for cheese found out to their dismay, that the flavours in a fondue are not, by any means, less intense than those of cheese in a more solid state. The conversation and company were pleasant as well, and except for a minor mishap involving unbaked pie (minor, but serious enough to never develop its full potential as baked pie), the evening was once again profoundly enjoyable.

Upon returning to my domicile, to my surprise I discovered the selfsame grouping of young students outside on the fire escape. As the fire escape is adjacent to the front door of the location I, with a flair of overstatement, may call my residence, the natural and courteous choice of action was to acquaint myself with the aforementioned group. They kindly informed me of the nature of the problems. Since 17:00, the flow of electricity had ceased. The concierge had been notified, but evidently had failed to produce the so-desired result of re-establishing the flow, despite repeated and insistent prompting. Apparently, the fact that some 31 persons were without power is not a main concern of our landlord, the university.

There was no recourse for it. The use of candles enabled applying the evening’s toilette before retiring for the night. In the morning, the situation was unchanged. But, lo and behold, at 7:15 equipment came to life! Digital clocks started flashing, the timer on the over lighted up, and it seemed that showering in the dark was not needed. Fast-forward to 7:21, and disappointment prevailed once again. The use of candles was once more an enabling factor in rousing myself to a state of coherent cognizance.

Upon parting to voyage to the lieu of my employ, I encountered an able fellow, who has at previous occasions applied many a fix in our building. Grasping the opportunity and the brakes of my bike with equal ferocity, I halted next to him and conversed about the abundant lack of electricity. We spent some time tracking the source of this profound inconvenience, and when the issue had been determined not to be a local phenomena occurring solely in my chambers, I parted company.

As the predicament had not been resolved when I left, I am partially curious to encounter the state of affairs when I arrive. Nevertheless, previous exposure to the efficiency and attitude prevalent here puts me at ease.
that is to say: if it is easy, it will be solved by the evening. If it’s slightly difficult, I will be needing candles all weekend.