Author Archives: Dennis

Yesterday evening, my father had arranged for tickets for the Russian State Circus, which were having their tour-premier not to far from where my mother lives, so we decided to all go. While, initially, I had thought I’d never gone to see a circus before, my father told me that I had seen one in France, when I was all of three years old. So for all intents and purposes, I’d never been to a circus. Now, when I hear circus, I immediately think of Carnivàle, and gipsies, and tigers and the trapese, tight-rope walking and clowns. Either that, or Cirque du Soleil, and while the latter far more…perfect, I guess, I’m guessing it doesn’t have the old world charm of an actual full-on circus.

Because it was the premier, Oleg Popov – for those of you haven’t heard that name, he is the uber-clown, the primordial clown against which all other clowns are measured – was there, flown in from Germany, where he lives. He got a standing ovation from the audience, and he didn’t even have to preform.

I was a little disappointed at the lack of wild animals (they only had an elephant, some massive, fuck-off large horses from Kazachstan, and a yak – Yeah, and actual yak! – who acted as the foundation on which some lithe, Mongolian chick did some crazy acrobatics), but I was told that the circus has two shows, both seasonal, and that the wild animal acts are all in the summer-show, since dragging these animals around during winter is a drag on them, as well as their caretakers. Not to mention the performers. Would you want to do a tiger-taming act with a 400 pound tiger who’s cranky because of the cold weather it has to reside in? Can anyone say Sigfried and Roy?

I could tell you about the acts I saw, and how amazing even the simplest of acts was, but what I’d rather tell you, is how I was so impressed with how imperfect it all was. It was real, you know? Trapese people fell, and fucked up. The guy on the suicycle slipped on occassion. The clowns improvised with people from the audience who were too emberassed to participate properly. It wasn’t rehearsed, shot fifteen times, edited, polished up, Photoshopped and sent across the airways to reach the passive-as-fuck audience at home. It was real. It was funny, it was cool, yet imperfect. All these artists knew that they could screw up at any moment, and they all had little routines that they did if and when they did, sort of as a comical apology to the crowd, before trying it again.

It’s a shame that circusses (circi?) are dying. Even during opening night, yesterday, the tent which could probably seat about 800 people, was only 80% full…and they were giving away free Russian beer and snacks, fer crissakes! While most of the acts have evolved together with the rest of the world (they have daring motorcycle acts as well now), you can still almost smell the sawdust on the floor, you can still almost pretend like this is 1892, and the people performing before you are Roman gypsies. Imagination and nostalgia are very closely linked, it seems.

I just came to the conclusion that my kid-brother probably doesn’t know or realise what CC stands for in an e-mail since it’s a pretty archaic term that is hardly ever used anymore. At least, not in the actual “carbon copy” meaning of the words. Pretty soon the abbreviation will become a word unto itself, and the original meaning of the abbreviation, and the original meaning of the abbreviation, become irrelevant. Language is organic, and evolves, even though I really don’t want it to, sometimes.

I had briefly considered telling my kid-brother that “bcc” stood for “braille carbon copy,” just to see how far the term would carry itself. I had imagined that in fifty years he and his people would be living in a commune, far from the rest of the world, in the Black forest, or in the Alps somewhere, shunning everyone who used the term “blind carbon copy” instead of “braille carbon copy.” I liked the idea. I also liked the idea of all the letters he’d write to the government of the EU and Microsoft, which by that time will be one and the same institution…

.: Urban Decay
So I’ve got a LiveJournal account, which I’ve registered to Urban Decay. It’s all horrible, but all beautiful at the same time. Living in the Netherlands, the second or third most densely populated country, depending on who you believe (Bangladesh being the most densely populated country in the world), where every piece of ground is incredibly fertile, we bicker and argue and plan and control every square inch of our precious soil. This means we have no real natural wildlife, or rugged areas, which bothers me sometimes…but it also means we have no abandonned areas, no rundown mills or factories just gathering dust and slowly collapsing in on itself. The ground is too precious, too expensive.

.: Operation: Dirty Rice
Last night Eva and I – well, mostly I – made dirty rice, after a special, yet stunningly simple, recipe from my mother. The operation was a clear and overwhelming success. Eva and I even improved. It was great. We ate it while watching Band of Brothers. I can’t believe we actually ate in front of the television. :)

.: Roleplaying Games
It’s itching again. Call of Cthulhu will most likely come first. Perhaps after that an entirely new Shadowrun campaign. Done my way. So it will be more cyber- than manapunk. Cyberpunk with a dash of mysticism. I won’t make the mistake of high fantasy in Shadowrun again.

I’ve also been wondering what a Dune or Warhammer 40K roleplaying game would look like. A space-opera-like game has never appealed to me, because it’s very much dominated by Star Wars…and those who know me won’t be suprised to hear me say that Star Wars can suck my sweaty nuts. Dune and WH40K are far darker and edgier. Strangely enough I’m drawn to that, but not in a Goth-ee type way, but because those environs tend to make for better storytelling. What a shame that Obsidian was such a disappointment. “Sorry Micah, but you have a nice concept, but bad execution. Stick to making music, which you do very well.”

While the weather is getting worse and worse, so has the water heater situation become worse and worse after it had gone so very well over the last couple of weeks. I complained to my landlord and tomorrow someone should be by to check it again. I also have to buy a new shower-head and wall-attachment, I think, or perhaps one of them. I found that the wall-attachment system doesn’t match the one on the shower-head and that the wall-attachment system is…well, rare, to say the least. Some people working at stores that sell bathroom equipment looked at me funny when I tried explaining it, so they could perhaps sell me a shower-head that would be able to be attached to the wall-attachment.

Anyway, on Friday night I went to practice and came back exhausted. I went over to Wai, only to find we were both too tired to actually do anything but sit there and watch stupid gamer-related movies. I left fairly early on to go back to my mother’s. There I watched the end of Outbreak, together with my brother who had just returned from a school party. I checked Warcraft real quick to see how my auctions were going and then headed to bed.

The following day I felt relatively muscle-achey, and I went to Kung Fu. I taught kids and came to the realisation that sooner rather than later the kids’ parents will need to leave, otherwise they keep distracting the kids. I worked myself pretty hard with them, but not nearly as hard as I worked them. It was a pretty good class…both of them. I still maintain that I like the 10 – 15 year old group better than the 5 – 9 year olds.

I finally made an appointment with the Honda dealer for them to take a look at my car, get the MOT done, and have the alarm replaced. It’s stupid to have the car just sit there and be useless. I’m also going to get a quote on the damages to my rear-bumper, and ask them how they can assist me in selling the car. If it’s going to be easy, I’m going to have them do it. If not, then I might hold on to it for a while longer. More about that next Saturday.

That afternoon I hung around at home, avoiding several chores. I played some more Warcraft, but had a lot of trouble finding a group to do Maraudon with. Most of them are only interested in Princess Runs, and I’ve done her a couple of times now, and I’d like to get my ever-greener quests done before they’re useless in the ways of XP. In lieu of that disappointment, I decided to get my Artisan Fishing skill, which took a bit of work.

At night, Eva and I watched Harisson’s Flowers, a film set against the backdrop of the Serbian conquest of Vokuvar, in the early nineties. That film kicks my ass. Hard. I found that both Eva and I tend to start making bad jokes to avoid becoming very emotional at films like this. We also seem to have a tendency to single out annoying characters – every film has got a couple! – and focus our attention on them, turning our sadness into anger, directed totally at them.

On Sunday I spent some time listening to Moulsari sleep while I played Warcraft. She talks a lot in her sleep and makes even less sense than when she’s awake. (Kidding! Kidding!) I joined Dennis in Zaandam and drove to Richard’s in Hoorn. We watched The West Wing, season one. About eight episodes of it, or so. I ate too much junkfood, but the muscle-ache I was (and still am) experiencing told me, yet again, that I’m losing weight too fast, so a bit of high-fat food won’t hurt me.

Tentative date for Moulsari’s visit; December 24th. I can’t wait. :)