Daddy said… (20)



You know the problem is, that there’s too much blue in the Danish!

I didn’t see that problem, but I went out and had a look.

With his reference to the Danish, I first went to Denmark. There I found the weather to be wet and depressing, and I found many people felt rather blue. Quite like the Dutch, few ever smiled. However, I’m not a stand-up comedian, so I decided to check first if there was another meaning to my Daddy’s comment.

I went into a restaurant and saw on the menu a Danish Blue sandwich. As it was lunch time, I ordered one. To feel more comfortable during lunch, I kicked off my shoes and sat back – happily awaiting the food. Even before my sandwich reached the table, the smell of the cheese reached my nose, and then it hit me: daddy was talking about my feet.

With renewed interest, I went out and had another look. And I found that many people suffer from malodorous feet, in one way or another. Smelly feet are usually ascribed to sweaty feet, which is only partly true. It’s the interaction between the sweat and the bacteria that live in your skin.

So was my daddy right?

I don’t think so. You can’t blame the chameleon for changing colours! You can’t blame the skunk for stinking! And a lack of fresh noble blood is not what makes your feet smell; it’s not caused by the blue in your feet, and it’s sure not from all those elephants stepping on your long toes.

There are many products available to keep your feet from smelling, they all cost a continuous stream of money – discontinuing their use will defeat their purpose. There is, however, a simpler solution, and cheaper than you might expect. All you need is three long lasting products.

The first one is a large pair of clogs – you know, the wooden shoes the Dutch wear. Second, you need an old computer fan (old being an adjective to computer). And lastly a battery packed in the top of the shoe – of course, the rechargeable kind. Then cut the front of the shoe out, and insert the fan, connected to the battery. This set-up will keep fresh air flowing past your feet for hours at a time. And as long as the sweat from your feet evaporates, the bacteria will stay where they are, and not turn to cheese.

All you have to do is carry a spare battery, or a charger. I guarantee you, batteries are cheaper than smelly-feet-spray!

Previously posted on My.Opera, when they still had a blogging service. I’m rerunning the Daddy Said series here; when I feel like, I’ll write a new episode. This one I wrote in 2009. Do you think I could win a fashion award for this shoe-design?

Daddy said… (19)



You know the problem with memory is, there’s so much people need to forget!

So I went to the bottom of many a glass, and often the bottle too, and had a lllllook.

And I found that alcohol does indeed cause temporary memory loss. But once one comes out of the inebriation, memory hits twice as hard, because with every bit of alcohol consumed, you get smarter. Well, according to the Buffalo Theory:

When a herd of (North American) buffaloes gets hunted naturally, and starts running, the strong ones run at the front, and the weaker ones at the back. The weaker ones will be caught first, thus the group as a whole gets stronger. When you drink alcohol, some brain cells die. These are, naturally, the weaker brain cells. This is why you feel so clever after ten beers.

I also found that people going through painful experiences, turned to the bottom of many a bottle, not just the glass. When going through an expensive divorce, forgetting the pain through alcohol is not really effective: the side effects are just too cumbersome. Before you know it, you’ll be on the floor, either being beaten, pretend to beat someone else, or just rolling around in regurgitated booze and fast food. But with big enough troubles, the relief obviously seems worth this drawback.

So was my daddy right?

I don’t think so. You can’t blame an elephant for remembering his childhood foe! You can’t blame a dog for not realising it’s its own tail that it’s chasing!

When battling alcoholism, the first generally accepted step is accepting that you are addicted. I say this step is wholly unnecessary. Admitting you drink, is not the hard part. Because it’s not the desire for the alcohol that keeps you drinking! It’s the persistence of the problems that keep driving you mad and thus drunk.

I suggest instead, to adopt the Dutch approach for drugs: make it free. Provide free alcohol to anyone who admits to have a drinking problem. This will take away one appeal of the drink (‘I shouldn’t, but…’), and it will alleviate the financial burden of a drinking problem. With money to spare, many problems can be solved, and thus the core of the drinking problem will evaporate.

A side effect of this approach is that ex-alcoholics will be near-geniuses once their alcohol dependency is relieved. Imagine what we’ll achieve once this approach has been in place world wide for a few years… This will make the world a better place indeed!

Previously posted on My.Opera, when they still had a blogging service. I’m rerunning the Daddy Said series here; when I feel like, I’ll write a new episode. This one I wrote in 2009. On a little side note here, I feel I should add that I don’t really believe to have solve alcoholism. Any addiction is a disease and should be treated; I’m no expert, but this text is just for entertainment purposes.

Daddy said… (18)


You know the problem with the poor people is that money rules their life!

So I went out and had a look.

I went over to the nearest slum, and I found many people working the craziest jobs for scraps of money. They’d do anything for money. In exchange for a bit of cash, one would carry me on his back, another would allow me to penetrate her anywhere, and yet another was offering to kill me if I didn’t give him money. Money seemed to be almost constantly on everybody’s mind. I also found that a little bit of money, takes you a long way – all the way across the slum. When I came out on the other end, I found that prices rose dramatically, but other than that nothing much changed.

Even with loads of money, all people could think of was just that: money. And even filthy rich people were willing to do the craziest things to increase their wealth. One was running a limousine service, another an upscale brothel, and yet another offered to kill me if I gave him some money. Also here, money was on everybody’s mind.

So was my daddy right?

I don’t think so. You can’t blame gravity for causing a fall! You can’t blame the sun for the night! Money is not the cause of poverty. It’s the value we give it.

Take a look at the happiest families around, for example. They’ll do anything for each other without the use of money, just the exchange of love; valuing merely the services rendered, not the coins changing hands.

When trying to rid the world of poverty, we could donate to charity. We could also make poor people work harder, and pay them fairly for their efforts, but all of this is being done by many socially concerned bleeding hearts, but there’s plenty of evidence that it isn’t working.

The most effective option is one that is easily done, but everyone has to help. We should value money only to the paper it is printed on, or the the data-carriers it’s transported on. Value the coins only to the possibility to make use of their material. Then, not having money won’t be a problem. The only thing important will be the ability to work; the ability to make things or render services. Would you want a stack of paper, in exchange for the table you made? Would you want a lump of nickel in exchange for the massage you gave? No! You’d want your tires fixed or a house built in exchange for the miracle you’ve just performed.

So expect a favour in return for a favour, and a thing in return for a thing! This way, there’ll be no place for poverty in the world!

And of course, thou shall love thy neighbour.

Previously posted on My.Opera, when they still had a blogging service. I’m rerunning the Daddy Said series here; when I feel like, I’ll write a new episode. This one I wrote in 2009.

Daddy said… (17)



You know what the problem is? People with motion sickness are just too fidgety.

So I went out and had a look.

In the places where I found the most fidgety people, there also was a lot of sick, but it didn’t seem due to the movement. In the nursery, the kids never stopped moving – or puking – but the adults around there assured me that this was normal. Having recently had a son of my own, I must say, it’s surprising how little milk the brat actually needs; he throws up so much! Surprisingly though, especially when he’s lying still in his bed.

Then I rode the bus. It didn’t make me sick in the least. First I sat in the front, where I could look at the road ahead. My mother insisted that this was the place where no one got sick. So I moved to the back. After I’d wriggled my lovely behind between two fellow passengers, I waited for the great regurgitation, but also here it didn’t come.

Next I placed my bum in a seat halfway down the aisle, which very shortly after concluded my research. The person I had landed next to, asked me why I was so restless; and I realised that I’d moved more than my fellow tourists, yet I hadn’t the slightest form of sickness. So to kill the remaining 12 of the 13 hour bus-ride, I decided to read a book.

So was my daddy right?

It doesn’t seem so. You can’t blame a cow for regurgitating. You can’t blame a Llama for spitting. It’s not the fidgeting that makes you sick! It wasn’t until I started reading that I got sick; but perhaps I’m lucky, because during my hours in the bus, I talked to quite a few people who felt sick without reading.

While for some the cause for motion sickness may seem obvious, I still feel the need to mention it here. It’s not fidgeting, it’s a person’s sensitivity to being shaken, or stirred for those suffering seasickness.

This leads to an easy conclusion: If you know you’re prone to motion sickness, you need to invest in a decent computer and a great internet connection. This way, you never have to leave your home. Great travel blogs, vlogs and vr-experiences are out there, and even greater ‘work from home’ opportunities float around the web – many more in 2020! And thus the only reason to get out of your armchair is to go over to the kitchen, or the nearest six-12 (I wouldn’t dare making an ad here!) for some food. Now who can’t do that on foot?

As some sources say that nearly 80% of the people suffer from motion sickness in one form or other, this will instantly solve many problems in the world; too many to list here, but other than traffic problems, I suggest you let your imagination run wild!

Previously posted on My.Opera, when they still had a blogging service. I’m rerunning the Daddy Said series here; when I feel like, I’ll write a new episode. This one I wrote in 2009, and made one slight change, now – did you notice? I thought I’d post this anticipating the reopening of society; some thoughts before we go to work in the office again.

Daddy said… (16)



You know what the problem with traffic jams is, the roads aren’t wide enough!

So I went out and had a look.

In the process I got a lot of on-road experience. And I found that traffic jams in Thailand are confined only to certain areas. Bangkok is one, Chiang Mai is another, and on the weekend, seaside towns like Pattaya, Cha-Am and Hua Hin get congested too. Only occasionally you will encounter a surprise traffic jam in the middle of nowhere. After Thailand, I explored some of the rest of the world. Although it is true that the more you see, the more you know of that you haven’t seen, I figured out soon enough that this was valid everywhere: on only certain roads, traffic snails along, and these are rarely the narrowest ones.

As I always want to drive at the front, I learnt that the human is a herd animal. Most people like to drive close together, many slow drivers unwilling to pass each other, and thus blocking both (or all if there are more) lanes. Because of this, I think it is surprising that traffic jams are confined to fairly small areas; most people must love them!

So was my daddy right?

Well, of course not. You can’t blame a snail for slithering slowly! You can’t blame a cow for liking its friends’ company! Traffic jams are not caused by a traffic light! A multi-lane blocking accident doesn’t cause traffic to slow! It’s the people’s desire to drive together. This is why they say that traffic is like water: when there’s space for it, it fills up.

The problem of traffic jams though, is that the average speed is too low. So while we develop a more independent mind, so we can drive by ourselves instead of in a herd, we should also work on our speeding skills. As long as the (Thai) police aren’t using their speed camera’s, this can’t be hard. Every new car sold, should have a first and a fifth gear (and all in between), so that when at a traffic light, we can speed away, thus creating more space for other drivers behind us.

This driving style will cause petrol consumption to drop: we drive faster, spend less time driving, ergo, we use less petrol. Another side effect is that the accident rate will go down: Each car spends a shorter period of time in one place, thus making it less likely to get hit by another one. Any shooter among us will confirm that it is much harder to hit a moving target!

Previously posted on My.Opera, when they still had a blogging service. I’m rerunning the Daddy Said series here; when I feel like, I’ll write a new episode. This one I wrote in 2009. I thought I’d post this anticipating the reopening of society; some thoughts before we go to work in the office again.

Conatus scribo


, , ,

I’ve started a manuscript called Borse Code; it will eventually be a book in Dutch. Occasionally, on some Wednesdays, I will post chapters I’ve written here – in English – to see if they work. Let me know what you think, alright? These attempts are not in chronological order.

“You still believe in conspiracy theories”, she said.

“Conspiracy theories? You think that what I’ve discovered isn’t true?”

“Indeed, I don’t think it’s true. As a rule of thumb, you should check how many people have to be sworn to secrecy in order to keep it a world wide secret. And that number in your theory is simply too great.”



“Yes, five. The rest is dead. Who those five are I will show you in a minute. But first I’ll address your allergy for conspiracies.” He started to get worked up, but he didn’t get the chance to finish. She interrupted him.

“Conspiracies are a result of atheism. In the past, the inexplicable chaos that this world is, was explained as the will of God, or whichever deity was locally revered. This chaos was structured referencing the different holy scriptures. And despite contradictions…” She interrupted herself. “Did you know there are supposedly people in India who believe contradictory things can co-exist – they explain it as the will of the gods; you may not understand it, but they – the gods – certainly will. But I digress. Religion structures the world, shapes this chaos surrounding us into something recognisable. Religion makes it manageable, and as long as everyone in a community believes in the same religion, it is easy to talk about it; it’s easy to explain to each other the order in the chaos – as everyone is talking from the same frame of reference. It takes a special kind of intelligence to be able to accept this chaos without religion! The desire for structure is deeply rooted in us. And when religion disappears, the average human searches for something new that provides guidance. And conspiracy theories are a grateful victim for this guidance. Science is not, because any good scientist will immediately admit that they know very little for certain. No scientific research is phrased with the certainty that conspiracy theories are. The latter tell you what the truth is, the former what research shows that the truth may be. The former portray the world as a structured place, with evil rich people at the top, who control us like puppets – just like an all mighty God does for the religious. And now you have concocted the latest chapter in the conspiracy gospel: Hailey has been developed by abuse and murder.”

“Your comparison with the Bible is…”

“I never mentioned the Bible.”

“That’s childish. You talked about religion and holy scriptures. The gospel even! I just add a name to it, and suddenly you haven’t said it. Don’t argue like a coward; stand for what you say. And have the same respect I’ve given you: let me finish.”


“Your comparison with the Bible is accurate. In the Bible you can find a lot of decent advice, and a lot of nonsense. At the core the Bible is good, the explanation of the Bible isn’t always. The core of conspiracy theories was, at the turn of this century, that the richest of the rich in this world were enriching themselves shamelessly; and in the process they supposedly had the desire to control the poor; their goal is absolute power, and leaving the common man in hopeless poverty – and at the same time giving these poor the illusion of freedom. But that freedom was of course limited, because anyone who complained about it, would be exiled into the damned corner of crazies and conspiracy theorists. In that corner you can also find the crazies who claim that Finland doesn’t exist. Being associated with them is an easy way to exile a theory into the ridiculous.”


“Exactly. To make a theory seem ridiculous, all you need to say is that it looks like a chemtrails-theory. And nobody worth their salt azwill believe it any more – except the crazies. Serious thinkers, the rare intelligent people, no longer dare burn their fingers on the topic. And then the average people remain; which automatically means that you’ll also find incoherent, average studies that are easily discredited. But twenty years later an intelligent person like Piketty climbs in the pen and shows with statistics and numbers that the rich actually are enriching themselves. Shamelessly.”

He stopped. He had composed this rant on the spot. The conclusion of this story needn’t be verbalised, right?

“Sooo… You’re saying you’re one of those rare intelligent people and that Piketty is crazy.”

“You really should go into politics. You are a master in twisting words and misinterpreting conclusions. No, I am not a rare intelligent person. I can barely understand what Piketty writes, let alone that we operate at the same level. I’m only saying that at the core a narrative that appears like a conspiracy theory, needn’t be trashed automatically.

Around the turn of the century they were called the Illuminati, who were supposedly enriching themselves shamelessly. Following that accusation, the most outlandish and insane theories were added to it – for example that the Illuminati were one well-greased organisation. They aren’t – the world is chaos. But like I started saying, people desire order, so they make the order up. But the fact that the richest of the rich are mercilessly enriching themselves, was true. And John Keane added to that story how they are controlling the masses.”

“And you’re now going to tell me that you have a solution for a better world?”

“Who do you think I am? Karl Marx? Of course not! I am not one of the rare intelligent, did I tell you that? I have only discovered something isn’t right about Hailey – and I’d like this truth to be publicly known. I haven’t made anything up; I have refrained to add a motivation to the theory that would be swallowed by the conspiracy crazies like cake. No, the motivation of Stork and his cronies is just enrichment. But to get there, they don’t shy away from torture and murder.”

Silence. They both drank their coffee.

“Your passionate story made me forget for a moment why we were here. Hailey – that’s why we are here. Thank you for reminding me. I still think that you’ve made up a conspiracy theory. But you have argued passionately and convincingly why the core of your story could be true. I will take your story to the most intelligent person I know. And if he is convinced that your story is true, you can write it up in one coherent article and publish it; and I will pay for it.”

“And who might that person be?”

Daddy said… (15)


, , ,

You know what the problem is? People ‘d rather be six feet under than six feet apart! That’s why one virus quickly turns into a pandemic.

So I went out and had a look. And at first, oh grand surprise, it seemed my daddy was right! Despite health officials’ sternest of advice, people got together in grand numbers. People got together to protest, to party, to go shopping or to go to the beach; most were aware of the advice, and ignored it wilfully. Very few were unaware.

Some of the people who were aware, though, screamed to stay out of their aura. I saw them trying to maintain a distance, yet continuing to live their life. This seemed a tough challenge. I mean, getting groceries and other stuff delivered is easy; even exhibitionism is easy during a lock down. But what seems to be a little more difficult, is maintaining real human connection. Everyone needs a hug sometimes, and we all desire just a little more than that, but six feet apart, a condom isn’t really necessary, is it?

So was my daddy right?

I don’t think so. People don’t desire death! You can’t blame a phoenix for igniting! You can’t blame bees for sticking together! It’s not that people have become suicidal that makes them flock together, it’s the desire for human connection, for a human touch, that drives us to ignore the advice of health officials.

And the harsh reality is that nature has no moral conscience (disregarding some monkeys). Nature creates something when a pest becomes too incessant; humanity has been called a plague before. Now something has come into the world that will not end us all, but is starting to thin the population a little. And us, moral creatures that we are, have our knickers in a not.

Another harsh truth is that we will all die, sooner or later; for most people that, of course, happens rather later than sooner. But one way to rid ourselves of the advice (or laws) that force us to stay six feet apart, is to say our goodbyes to our loved ones, mourn everyone in your life as if they were dead already, and migrate. Each of us should move to a place where they know nobody. We should take eachother’s jobs and homes, form new families and communities. And while we’re forming new relationships, some of us will die due to covid-19 – but that won’t matter, because the people who care about us, already mourn our loss. That way, those of us who survive this virus, will be able to love and be loved all the time; just by new people.

This, obviously, is a new post in the Daddy Said series.

Daddy said… (14)



“You know what the problem is? Nobody appreciates all that I’ve made. That’s why I have to present the crap like a peacock!”

So I went out to have a look.

At first I took this message very personally, and I started looking at what my daddy had made. It didn’t take me long to figure out that my daddy’s real legacy was me, and that it was me presenting his ideas, not the other way round.

I soon realised that he wasn’t talking about himself, but about many of the inventors out there. Where are their attempts to make something good? Nowadays, the stuff you buy usually doesn’t do what is advertised. Water cookers that don’t shut off. Bread toasters that either make warm bread, or burnt scraps, but never toast. Operating systems that suck, vacuum cleaners that don’t

And yet, the companies selling these things present them as if they would make life better, instead of worse. They seem to believe it themselves, and we, the public, get punished for their feigned trustworthiness.

So was my daddy right?

I don’t think so. You can’t blame a paradise bird for its colours! You can’t blame a cat for acting like a diva! It’s not that nobody appreciates what is being made, it’s that the inventors are being pushed beyond the limit so what they make truly is crap.

To halt this arrogance, we need not be innovative, but smart. Don’t use lawnmowers as hedge cutters, as that will cost you all your fingers, and a lawsuit has already come to pass. Avoid personal injury, but use things what they were not meant for. Be creative. Grow flowers in a water cooker that doesn’t work properly. Boil water on an overheating CPU running a hung up computer. While your computer is at it, instead of the screen saver, fill up your old monitor with water and have a real Nemo in there. If you then can no longer read your favourite blog, just wait till it comes out as a real book so you can actually read them at your leisure, lying in bed.

Soon enough the people at the helm hunting for bigger profits with worse material, will understand that we’ve become creative with their crap, and don’t need their products that badly any more. Then they will hire true genius and the products on the shelves in your local shops will be truly useful again.

Previously posted on My.Opera, when they still had a blogging service. I’m rerunning the Daddy Said series here; when I feel like, I’ll write a new episode. This one I wrote in 2009; the seventh of the deadly sins.

Daddy said… (13)


, ,

“You know what the problem is? The neighbour’s grass is always greener! That’s why I want to have theirs!”

So I went around and had a look.

And I found many different colours of grass. I saw green in Holland Park, Hyde Park, Lumpini Park and Wimbledon. To my great surprise, the green in Buckingham Palace was approaching brown; was that because of the recent application of manure?

No matter the state of fertilisation, nor the amount of green, I wouldn’t fancy any of the grass I saw. The only two that might have been interested in all the grass I saw could be Dolly the sheep and Gangotri the cow, had they been alive.

While also the late great Bob Marley would’ve enjoyed some of the grass I came across, my search was leading nowhere – now here! I’ve religiously watered my lawn throughout the dry season, while the neighbour’s withered away. Theirs is really brown, mine is greenish. While they go to work each working day, I have paid holidays. While they struggle to pay off their Tata, my Tesla is gleaming on the porch. While their computer still struggles with Windoze XP, I switched to Linux. And above all, while I am satisfied with everything I have in my life, they’re constantly struggling to catch up with the world’s latest fashions.

She has a latest generation mobile phone, he watches a wide high definition flat screen. Their kids go to school with their iPads, if they could ditch their uniforms they’d wear their latest brand-jeans. I wish I could give my son that!

So was my daddy right?

I don’t think so! You can’t blame my chameleon for being green on my lawn! You can’t blame a ruru for its invidiousness! It’s not my lawn’s fault it’s green! It’s mine!

As it is my fault that I would like to give my son an iPad, and a pair of nice quality jeans. But hey, my choices have been made. Stick with it. I don’t despise my neighbours for being able to spoil their roost. It’s been the hardest struggle though, and I don’t expect everyone to follow in my footsteps and suppress that emotion.

Be happy, there’s an easier way to prevent the feeling of invidiousness. One is only poor compared to the neighbours. One only desires what the neighbours have that you can’t afford yourself. The solution is simple: move to a place where the neighbours have less than yourself! The new home will be cheaper, and thus there’ll be even more left over to pamper and the kids, and yourself, and leave the neighbours’ state of well being behind.

Previously posted on My.Opera, when they still had a blogging service. I’m rerunning the Daddy Said series here; when I feel like, I’ll write a new episode. This one I wrote in 2009; the seventh of the deadly sins.

Daddy said… (12)



“You know what the problem is? There’s so much evil going around in this world, it’s impossible not to get angry.”

So I went out and had a look.

It was very easy to find evil all around. I fount totalitarian dictators, put into power by the so called international community, running a bloody regime. Then this aforementioned international community feigns concern, and overthrows their own former puppet, only to let the little bit of structure in the country collapse into total chaos, making the country even more dangerous for the locals.

I found people that this was only a play, staged for the profit of the rich and powerful at the time. This however seems as far fetched, as are the stories our governments want us to believe.

Closer to home, I found people being beaten to bits because of their looks, or killed because of their shoes. I found people who couldn’t realise that no matter how relative the passage of time, we’re locked into it; thus scarring children for life.

Plenty or reason for at least some agitation, but the abounding emotion I found was complacency.

So was my daddy right?

I don’t think so! You can’t blame a crow for holding a grudge! You can’t blame well fed cat for being complacent! It’s not the lack of reasons that prevents people from getting angry; it’s the over-abundance of it. There’s so much evil in the world, that there’s no choosing what to get angry about. It would be hypocrite to try and stop military invasions, but to ignore military dictators. It would be rude to support the death-penalty for rapists, but not try and prevent rape. Yet not a person alive is capable of carrying all the world’s sins on his shoulders, and fight to solve them. The only one who allegedly managed, lived ages ago, and found it a heavy burden too!

It seems even, that we all together aren’t able to do so. Even though there are some well meaning initiatives to try and stop one or the other problem from happening, passionate people about it are rare and far between. Until it hurts us directly, it’s easiest to crash on the sofa and browse Netflix to ignore the pain coming in over the tube.

And there you have it. Not enough people are angry for it to become a problem; actually a little more anger would solve a lot of problems. Today my daddy is so wrong, his ignorance should be a sin. Get angry, people! Angry at all that is wrong in the world, and through that, make it a better place!

Previously posted on My.Opera, when they still had a blogging service. I’m rerunning the Daddy Said series here; when I feel like, I’ll write a new episode. This one I wrote in 2009; the sixth of the deadly sins.

Daddy said… (11)



“You know what the problem is? Sinners are too lazy even to go to confession. That’s why so many of them die!”

So I went around and had a look.

First I dove into the cinematography, to familiarize myself more with the topic. Very enlightening was indeed the film Se7en, although the ultimate sinner in the end wasn’t a lazy bugger at all.

Then I hung around Catholic churches. The most interesting thing I found there, was that most people pass by the place. I asked several people for their opinion, and while some answered Allahu Akbar, Dominus vobiscum, or something of a similar meaning, others were extremely ignorant on the matters of higher faith.

Only when entered a boardroom did I find a knowledgeable guy peeling an onion in the shape of the chair. The chair turned out to be a big sinner, but voodoo turned out not to be an adequate punishment.

All in all, I found very few lazy people out on the road – other than those taking the car to go a quarter-mile – and I found even fewer people coming in for confession.

So was my daddy right?

I don’t think so. You can’t blame a sloth for er… well, for being itself. You can’t blame a termite for his ability to take down the house. It’s not the sins for which the sinners die! It’s not even the sinners alone who die; it’s all of us that die. Death’s just a fact of life, inherent to birth.

So why are they called mortal sins? Just to scare us? I think there’s another reason. I think it’s not because committing them actually kills us, but because committing a mortal sin destroys all our chances to reach true happiness. Have you, for example, ever seen a happy man staying in bed all his life?

Comfortable, such a man surely is, but happiness comes with living a full and fulfilling life. And staying in bed, doing nothing, isn’t the way to get just there.

The solution for this is surprisingly simple: buy chilli peppers. And anyone you see being a lazy cunt, just quickly and quietly put one of them where the sun doesn’t shine. This is even more effective than ants in the pants!

Previously posted on My.Opera, when they still had a blogging service. I’m rerunning the Daddy Said series here; when I feel like, I’ll write a new episode. This one I wrote in 2009; the fifth of the deadly sins.

Sunshine blogger award


I had joined wordpress quite a few years ago. It was dormant for a long time, but early 2020 I took a serious shot at reviving it. And I am engulfed by the response and feedback received from other co-bloggers. This place is full of positivity with no standard dogma to express your thoughts. I will like to thank each one of you for your endless love, encouragement and appreciation.

• Thank the person who nominated you and link back to their blog.
• Answer the 11 questions asked by the one who nominated you.
• Nominate 11 bloggers and ask them 11 new questions.
• Notify the nominees.
• List the rules and display the Sunshine Blogger Award image in your post.

Thank you Sheena Manocha 😇😇 – I am humbled and honored by the fact that that I was nominated for this prestigious award for the first time by Sheena Manocha of The other Aspect. As I state on my Dutch author’s website: ‘I write for my entertainment. And for yours’. It touches me that you are entertained by it!

Sheena has a nice way of putting things into perspective, and quite often in a way you hadn’t thought of yet – but with a sound ring of logical truth to it.

Questions Sheena Manocha asked me.

  1. What are some words or phrases you use most?

Well, I try my best to diversify when I write. Most things I post I reread twice, and if I find that I use the same word too often, I look for other ways to say it… Having said that, something I say often to my students, who can’t leave their smart phones alone, is: “If she can’t wait for you, she isn’t worth it! Now put down your phone, and listen to me.”

2. What do u prefer: blogging or fun chat with friends?

What friends?

3. Which language you want to learn?

None at the moment. I speak Dutch, English and Thai fluently. I can get by in Germany (though my German is not approaching anything called ‘good’). I’m very poor at learning languages when I’m not around people who don’t speak it to me all the time, so if I were to learn a new language, I’d have to migrate – again. What I’d love to learn for its pronunciation is Xhosa, or another language with clicks in it. Another language I’d like to master, but this time because its structure interests me is Turkish – as it doesn’t only have pre- and suffixes, but also infixes (and many other word forming options none of the languages I speak have). I fear I’ll never learn them, though. I’m not in the mood to migrate.

4. Name a movie which you can relate to? Why?

Tierra. It’s an old movie, and I haven’t seen it in a while. But it’s a lovely depiction of the vile choice between heavenly Love and earthly Love. Which do we go for? Having read the above, you’ll know I’ll have to watch this movie with subtitles; which is a pity, as translations are always wrong.

5. Your favourite cuisine?


6. Which post of my blog do you like the most and why?

The hardest question, as there are a few good ones to chose from. I’m very touched by this one, though.

7. What can totally impress you?

Places and things are irrelevant, it’s moments and people that need to be cherished. Create me a moment, be a special person, and I’m impressed.

8. If you could be teleport then which place it would be?

If this were a regular thing, for me, I’d eliminate my commute. I’d no longer take planes, trains or cars for holidays. If this were a one time thing… I’d not use it, because I’d have no way to get back. If I could do a return trip once, I’d teleport to another earth-like planet, to see if we’re alone – or not.

9. If you could have a super power then what you would be?

I am a teacher. What is your super power?

10. Who is your go to person? How are you related to them?

For fifteen years, I had one. She bore me two children, and then died on me. Last year, I thought I’d found a new one, but that was an illusion. I am floating, right now – my go to place is my pen.

11. Your residing place? Any finest place where you often visit?

The Netherlands, somewhere in the center of that country, but it’s so small, any place is nearby (the shortest car drive out if this country from my home is an hour and a half, the longest 3 hours, if you drive nothing but highways in one direction). I love to visit the river Waal, close to my home, and do so often. Every other year, though, I get to visit my favourite place in the whole world: khao phlai dam.

My nominees

Brian Langeose of Bonnywood Manor
Shaunak of Surreally Jibberish
Anushk@ of pillow_thoughts
blahblahblahjm of Bits of things that pop into this mind
WildHeart of Wild Scared Crazy
Tomboysdontcry of some day never comes (he’s not blogged for ages, but I still respect his work!)
And finally, yes, I know, I break the rules by not nominating 11, a blogger who I’ve only just started following, but whose writing I like very much: Erroneous Choices of Choices in Error.

Apologies to all the others I follow; I’m picky at what I read, and even pickier at what I enjoy.

My questions to the nominees

As I’ve only nominated 7, I’ll stick to 7 questions…

  1. What is your favourite post on your own blog, and why?
  2. What is wrong with you; why do you like spiders (if you’ve seen my posts from the beginning of the year, I know I am sick, but why you? This, of course, is tongue in cheek) or my narrow minded daddy? In other words – which series that I have posted appeals to you most?
  3. Poetry or prose? Elaborate.
  4. Blogs or books? Or both? And if both, in what setting do you prefer which?
  5. What is your favourite piece of word art you’ve ever laid eyes on (be it a book, a poem, or anything else artistic comprised of words)? Link please!
  6. What do you slow down for? What do you cancel all stressful things in life for?
  7. Cats or dogs? Why?

Daddy said… (10)



“You know what the problem is? If I don’t have what you have, it makes me less of a man. That’s why I need to have everything…”

So I went to my neighbours and had a look.

Turns out, many of the things I have in my home, my neighbours have too! A TV, a tablet, a car, and guess what, they also had a bed! Not to mention the telephone, the table, a pile of books and some pictures on the wall. Then I explored their garden, and found several plants I didn’t have. One of them was a plant which the neighbour claimed was a natural amphetamine, something I thought would be a good idea to have in my garden too!

Then I thought I’d do a little experiment. I told them I’d just won the lottery, and so much money was way too much for me alone, so I thought of sharing it with them. If they’d be interested…

Instantly the groveling started. Shooore they were interested! And they’d do lots for it. When I asked them what they were thinking of doing with the money, they revealed plans to retire. Stash the money and live off the interest. This surprised me…

So was my daddy right?

I don’t think so. You can’t blame a giraffe for its long neck! You can’t blame a chameleon for changing its colours! Looking like we’re less than the neighbours isn’t the reason for our avarice. We’re not after the things our neighbours have, we’re after money.

Then I wondered if the acquisitiveness stops with having enough to retire, like it seemed to be with my neighbours. It didn’t take me long to realise that that isn’t the case. Many people keep on gathering, beyond usefulness, beyond any limits of reason. And one look at how our capitalist society works, showed me why.

Wealth brings perceived freedom. What is more, wealth brings power. The more we have, the more people bend to our wishes, and the feeling of power is a deliciously addictive one; if corrupting.

Ridding the world of avarice, is simple: detach power from money. I’m not calling for socialism. That is perhaps the furthest humans can develop themselves away from the animal kingdom, it is unnatural, and therefore as of yet unattainable. No species takes care of the weak.

No, just make money a unit for goods, and not for effort. Effort can only be repaid by effort; you do something for me, I do something for you. This way money can no longer hold power over individuals, and thus soon our desire for it will diminish.

Previously posted on My.Opera, when they still had a blogging service. I’m rerunning the Daddy Said series here; when I feel like, I’ll write a new episode. This one I wrote in 2009; the fourth of the deadly sins.