It is time for action. I am relaxed and excited, at the eye of the hurricane. I suppose everything will take that much longer: the reconstruction in
Japan, the war in Syria, the bureaucratic
impotence in the face of the political machine, the development around my
house, the change in mentality, the crisis, the final birthday.
In this part of the world, they found another corpse in the trunk. You can smell it around the world. All of a sudden, people realize that
of the EU. There was some strange Turkish backdoor created over there. For 40
years, there was a green line between the Turks and the Greeks – one of those
post-World War II conflicts that never ended. And therefore, it is one of the
oldest UN missions. Endless conflict for as long as I can remember, and all of a
sudden, in the midst of a lot of other information, the conflict was gone: Cyprus became
part of the EU, and the situation turned out to be as it used to be. Meanwhile,
it seems the Russians have used the front door. LOL [laugh out loud]. I have
tried to find out why Cyprus
had to become part of the EU. If anybody can reply with a useful link, it would
be most welcome. Man, you must help me out here. It is like a bad dream.
History is not repeating itself: every day, it is writing new papers full of
letters and laws and agreements and more papers and agendas and legal advice
and so on. Cyprus
This world is so weird. It is becoming difficult to travel the way I like, so maybe taking care of my home would be a good idea for surviving the summer. And soon I realized “The world in big = the world in small.” If many officers are corrupt, many soldiers will be corrupt. On a smaller scale, our local bureaucracy tends to have similar ambitions in terms of complex and fast-changing structures as world organizations such as the UN or OSCE. There seems to be an unstoppable force to improve, an invisible desire to renew and adjust, an automatism that can only be stopped with a reset button. There is hardly any time for yesterday.
Our local councilwoman resigned mainly because some public servants were incompetent, lacked integrity and loyalty, and messed up a dossier. It is an entrenched problem in our city. She was politically responsible. But hey, when I scratch your car with a pencil, I am responsible. It would be good if I at least had to clean it up. She was quite cool. But public life is not run by directors and managers: it is run by politics and public servants. At least I thought so. Reality always introduces new situations. In this case, the public servants will feel even stronger toward the next temporary political boss, and these local politicians will never have the time to fight that bureaucratic machine we created. Nor can we. It’s only their job to be there, not ours. There is hardly any time for tomorrow.
When I was a punk rocker, I was in a band, and our slogan was “Can you keep your head when all around you, others are losing theirs?” Now, I wish it was just a joke, but in fact it’s getting serious – which reminds me of Jello Biafra. This summer, there will be a reunion for a music club in our town, mainly with people who went to the club, the Effenaar, during the 70s and 80s. Jello Biafra introduced me to how wild music and perfect sense can come together, even though his band, the Dead Kennedys, was the only real band that never played in that amazing club. So often, I wondered if there was cynicism in his words, but I could not find any. What he said was mainly ironic or just plain true. He spoke street life songs with wild music. Punk Rock Poetry. It is like walking in a forest. I mean: the level of enjoyment was very similar.