Miscellany #1: I Find Myself in the Netherlands

I'm too tired to explain why I'm too tired to explain. In a nutshell, I'm supposedly in my first semester of a PhD in creative writing at the University of South Dakota, something which I'm paying for by teaching two courses of English 101; but my friend Rachael Schiel, who played an instrumental role in helping me find my way to the PhD (played the role just like a fiddle, she did), was presenting at this hoity-toity David Foster Wallace Conference in the Netherlands, and despite the love many have shown me in SD I was withering with a need to see old friends or family, and some of Wallace's themes connect to my work, and my cousin Aimee is a flight attendant and gave me some flight benefits (may she be crowned with light), and the conference was even on Rachael's birthday, so I worked like crazy to carve out a week so I could come. My biggest class was also canceled for the week, so that really helped too. Interestingly, that made it feel meant to be, but the work I had to do -- which gave me a twitch in my right eyelid, which is still happening -- showed that destiny doesn't mean something great comes easy.

But hey, still, it's destiny. (Or whatever truer term there is for what I mean.)

Another cool thing is that this David Foster Wallace Conference is celebrating the 25th anniversary of his magnum opus, Infinite Jest, coming out. It's just too cool. So yeah, here I am in the Netherlands, trying to stay awake long enough to change my body clock to Central European Time – and thinking about secularism, humanity’s search for meaning in a world without faith in any institution or doctrine, and experiences I had today which fed those thoughts. (Fine dining in the old world, wot?) Europe, as far as I know, is still much more secular than the United States.

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En route to Europe, I went to Chicago, another place that is more liberal than places where I tend to be (IE home in Utah or now at school in South Dakota). Liberal places tend to have beautiful art. Even O’Hare Airport was beautiful, viste? (“Did you see,” as Argentines always say. “Do you get it?”)

Vid of hallway.

Brontosaurus with a mask. I like that it’s playful. Politics are too serious nowadays. Something dangerous about humor withering.

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One of the subs I found is my buddy Aqeel, an MA student at USD. After he told me he would help me out, we kept talking and he wound up telling me a vein of jokes people from his region of the world (Pakistan and its neighbors) share about Americans and oil. “If there were oil in hell, America would claim it.” I didn’t feel the political pontificating that led him to did full justice to the complexity of everything, but what mattered at the time was his point about humor. He was saying people feel oppressed in some way or other as a result of the US’s economic imperialism or what have you. They can’t change anything about it, really, but they can make jokes about it. And somehow that is a kind of victory.

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Speaking of victory, check out this bathroom!

Vid:

Not only does it feel like we’re in sci fi movie where an experiment is going to lead to a global dystopia somehow, as a special bonus, it was even free! The first time I came to Europe, just over twenty years ago, you had to pay to use the restroom. The irony still tickles me: socialism believes all sorts of things should be free (education, healthcare, IDK what), but not the one thing capitalist America does: public restrooms. I think it’s healthy to have humor one’s highest loyalty.

Another thing I remember from that first trip to Europe – I went to Germany in high school with Herr Corry and some friends (German Club) – was seeing a “smart car” for the first time. We couldn’t get over how small those things were; we were sure we could move one with two or three of us; we couldn’t, not with six. Today though I’m pretty sure I saw one we could have:

<pic of red go-cart>

I sent it to my siblings and asked them not to tell the brothers-in-law, since it was embarrassing what a great eye I had for cute cars.

 

I forgot to mention that before I got outside, I had to go through the passport check, which took about an hour. Ironically, I had been trying to decide before that whether I should go to a chapel of the church I belong to where everything would be in English (almost 2 hours away), or whether I should just go to a Danish one and call it good. After the line, I missed both either way. Maybe Europe is secular because the lines everywhere are so long.

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Rather than dignify that sendoff with a reflection, I will just not. Here are some cool pictures of things I saw on the way to my hostel though!

Olympic Stadium.

Van Gogh and Rijksmuseum.

Grassy roof over supermarket.

Aardapfel (thanks, Herr Corry!)

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Eventually, I got to my hostel – The Flying Pig, Uptown. Chill place. Chill guy named Gareth at the desk. Plain face but well-proportioned features. Cool guy. Noticed I wanted quiet and said the downtown Flying Pig was the hardcore one that was for drinking etc. Red light district. This one was more for smokers. But all rooms here are non-smoking, so that’s a win, he said with a grin. Asked me to smoke cigarettes outside if I wanted to smoke them; the smoker’s lounge was only for weed.

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Not sure why weed is okay but not nicotine. Makes me laugh though. Sort of the opposite of the socialism not paying for bathrooms thing. (Which in their defense the NL does now!) Humor is highest loyalty. Buddy Abe once pointed out that we ban marijuana when alcohol leads to tons more deaths that MJ ever would. So maybe the NL is adjusting to reason. Maybe they just love Mary Jane. Who knows? I just thought it was funny.

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Gave me a lock for free and even a converter! Great to leave my stuff somewhere before taking a stroll. Sat cross legged while planning, inadvertently snoozed for 30, woke and looked into the park nearby. Saw this beaut of a photo:

 

I hate to laugh at someone who had something stolen from them, but I like the idea that he’s looking for sympathy from the internet. His glum face with this dry post just makes me chuckle. Totes decided to hit the park up.

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Cool brick trails. Bikes separate. Walked through the park a bit – it was like strolling through a burning field of marijuana for a bit there – then saw this sign. Cool. I’m in favor.

Old church on other side of gates. Beautiful. Looked like office use though. People biking past. Soaking up nature beauty, tennis, etc. Less dogmatic enjoyment of life. Is God joy rather than prescriptiveness? Do secular and spiritual paths point to the same thing? Listen to your genuine desires? Buddhist: be true.

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Next to the cathedral, I found a breathtaking little nook looking over the park. The 1% I figured, but I loved it anyway. Love seeing the pure materialized beauty, whether I have it or not. Gazebo sunroom, picnic table on jut-out, bunch of roses in a vase within the window. Wow. Downright pre-Raphaelite. Thought of women in there in those days, loving the beauty perhaps – at least they would if they were like some of my friends – but feeling contained too. SMH.

Atmosphere is just incredible here though. Lovely.

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Poetics class has addressed how empire is the worst, how things are conquesty. Victorian Era in particular gets lambasted. Some true points: so fixated on exoticism as a form of conquest that animals were hunted to extinction. But also some incredible beauty. Can I enjoy the beauty that excess made possible, or is it unethical even to salvage something from that? I tend to think you might as well salvage, but is it safe to say “do that” to someone who doesn’t regret the excess as much as they want the beauty?

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Came back to park and heard mystical sounds from across the water. A guy going wild on a steel drum thing. Mystical. Eventually, I walked over there. Saw this tree which evoked something Pre-Raphaelite in me too – something about arches and veils and things.

Went to shore and watched sun set and soaked it up. People in amphitheatre but he wasn’t looking at them. Looked kinda muscular and I figured it was because the instrument took some serious strength eventually. Really whaling there. Felt like worship to me for some reason, maybe because he wasn’t facing the crowd and didn’t have a thing for tips out. Just facing the sun, which was setting. It felt like a performance that acknowledged others but wasn’t for them. Hard as it is to believe of anything in our ulterior age (kind of like avengers: age of Ultron, but not), I think he just felt like that was the best place he could go for his experience – to see the sun above a little lake with a big old tree at his back, so he did, even if others were there. He shrugged them off and kept facing the sun. Eventually, when he stopped, people clapped and he turned to bow a few times (without standing up) then he prayed. Felt beautiful to me.

Talked to him after. (OF course you can talk to him! Said a lady, not understanding me exactly.) His name was Maui (sp?). Said it was a great way of healing. Instrument plays him. Loved the weather. This was all a gift.

To me, the song was mystical, but the real beauty was his intention.

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Peers don’t think we can know intention but I think that’s all that living is…

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Mario the half-Moroccan, half-Dutch guy who was drunk but was right about the fact he wanted me to look up on his phone, that Morocco was the first country to acknowledge the US as existing.

Said life is too short to be unhappy. He’s 62. If you’re unhappy, change. Sounded wise, but he had a Heineken in his hand, prob not first either. Cheerful though. “Want one, brother?”

He’s probably going to split with his partner of years. Sad to me. Cites being unhappy. Sometimes commitment is what it takes to be happy though.

Chill trash can.

Curvy streets.

Got back to hostel. Yep, pigs fly.