Author: Dennis

So it’s that day again, the celebration of Saint Nicholas’ birthday. Some countries do it on the 6th, but the Netherlands does it on the 5th. It’s a day where kids get told that if they behaved nicely the previous year, Saint Nicholas will bring them gifts and treats, but if they behaved badly, Saint Nicholas’ helpers – zwarte Piet or “black Pete” – will come and take them away to Spain.

As always, debates on the political correctness of black Pete will be drawn into question, as hordes of black Petes will be walking the streets, dressed in flamboyant and foppish clothes, with black shoe-polish on their faces, trying to appear like the Morish slaves Saint Nicholas – one time Bishop of Mira in Turkey – held in servitude.

Luckily, the people who give a damn about the political correctness of it all is a very small minority. Black people in the Netherlands don’t seem to give a shit about it, so I think that there’s where the debate should stop.

Meanwhile, I’ve got candy…

Woke up at 3:45 am today to drop Moulsari off at the airport. Went straight into work after that. I can’t say that I feel totally fit right now.

Gears of War is looking to be a truly fantastic computer-game that I would dearly love to play…on a PC. I don’t particularly like consoles, for various reasons, but I absolutely despise the controlers. Invariably I’m left wanting the accuracy and precision of a mouse, and I won’t get that with those gimped analogue sticks.

Are they brothers or something?

An hour ago I heard that my father had a terrible car accident while driving my car. Actually, he wasn’t driving it, but a good friend of his was, and he was in the passenger seat. The last thing he remembered was turning onto a road, and the next thing is that he was tens of yards away, on the ground, with police standing over him. He broke his eye-socket and his cheekbone and is pretty banged up, but relatively alright. His friend is less okay. He broke ribs, punctured lungs and other nastiness. He is in a stable condition at the hospital. My father, who wasn’t driving, refused to submit to a blood test until he knew his friend was alright, and was saved from arrest by the police by the ambulance arriving, the personell of which demanded the police uncuff him so he could be treated. When I spoke to him he had gotten a nurse to help him escape the hospital unnoticed by the police who are undoubtedly still there waiting for him, so that he could go home. He said he would go and sort things out in the morning, which means he’ll probably be arrested for a misdemeanor.

Anyway, he’s relatively alright, and “won’t be playing football tomorrow,” like he said, but my car is, again, like he said, “alright, except that the front part is no longer connected to the back part.” Bye bye, car.