Goose Sauce That Is Good For The Gander

People living in glass houses should not even think of picking up stones to throw.

It turns out that Georgian Prime Minister Vladimer "Lado" Gurgenidze, a UK national, told the Estonian newspaper Postimees in March that Georgia would recognize Kosovo's independence.

Well, well, well. He probably should have followed Spain's suit who knows all too well that with its simmering Basque question it can ill-afford recognizing breakaway provinces of other countries.

Now Mr. Gurgenidze may need to go and eat his tie as did the man who appointed him, President Saakashvili.

In the meantime, 120 ties were collected by alert citizens in Moscow in order to froward them to Gerogian President.

Thailand Fed Up With 'Democracy'

Completely overshadowed by the Olympics and the Georgian war, Thailand's anti- government protests do not scoop much media attention. The same People's Alliance for Democracy that was instrumental in overturning Thaksin Shinawatra in 2006 now demands an end to democracy as unfit to deliver the country from its economic turmoil and social stalemate.

In Thais' living memory every new democratically elected government has unfailingly been only more corrupt, self-serving and inefficient than the previous one. Glib Chuan, disastrous Chavalit, shamelessly populist (fascist, in fact) Thaksin all legitimately came to office on a wave of popular support only to end up with a bang of huge failure and scandal.

Fed up with Western-styled democracy, Thais now demand a sort of Turkish model where the army would have an institutionalized say in national politics and the parliament would be appointed, presumably by the King. Quite contrary to Western perceptions, Turkish military has played a very progressive role in the country's political history as a republic, preventing on numerous occasions Islamist rollback and rampant political corruption.

Parallels here can be seen with the general public opinion in Russia accepting the necessity of a strong authoritarian rule in the country. A decade of lawless turmoil and oligarchic bacchanalia under Western-backed Yeltsin made Russians strongly allergic to foreign-inspired institutions artificially transplanted to their soil.

Whether there is a new worldwide trend towards dismantling democratic structured as failed because of the local social terroir remains to be seen.

Great China To Little Britain

So, the clumsy slob of the new London mayor got to wave the Olympic flag in Beijing, looking like he had lost his trousers belt. There's none of Boris Johnson's merit in bringing the Olympics to London - it all was Tony Blair and Ken Livingston's doing - yet he radiated triumph and self-confidence. Let's remember his firm promise that the Games budget will be kept under£9.3bn budget (the original budget in 2005 was £3.4bn). I predict by 2012 this will be at least in the ballpark of 20 billion - that is if nothing unpredictable happens.


London 2012's 8-minute presentation really showed us that Britain is completely out of touch with what the rest of the world likes. After the Chinese awe-inspiring glamour on an unparalleled scale - two dozens modern dancers (costumes courtesy of the Salvation Army) with newspapers and umbrellas, Myra Hindley in the video reel and Beckham with a football - well, good luck trying to impress the world with that kind of symbolism!

Just like Britain's annual Eurovision contributions doomed to puzzled shrugs anywhere east of the English Channel, a soul starlet with a sweaty old dude playing a 30-year-old hit on the electric guitar were greeted by a bewildered rustle of the audience at the Bird's Nest. It all sure would have been taken well by beer-drenched London crowds but the world wants tacky torch ballads, acrobatic dances and lots of fireworks. Britain's insular idea of coolness can sometimes click with Anglo-Saxons but for the rest of the world it is just quaint and not really that much fun.


China with all its alleged aloofness seems to have understood the power of American cultural message which is in its fine tuning to the expectations of the whole world. Britain, on the other hand, can't seem to fathom that her little cultural idiosyncrasies stop being hip somewhere half way between Dover and Calais. I hope festivities at London 2012 will overcome cultural navel-gazing and won't end up with nul points. It's Olympics, NOT Olimpicks this time!

Yet Another Big Time Embezzler Finds Refuge In Britain

Alleged big-time embezzler and power abuser, former Thai PM Thaksin Shinawatra and his wife, a convicted tax evader, have fled to UK where Thaksin owns Manchester City football club. It is not the first time UK gives aid and abet to foreign criminals as long as they made enough contribution to its economy. Boris Berezovsky, one of Russia's most hated personalities wanted in Russia, Brazil, Holland and Switzerland for money-laundering, is a recent example of Britain turning a blind eye on justice when it promises a fat money return.

It will be interesting to watch how the Thaksin saga is going to unfold. As it goes, for the years to come we are most likely to be spotting the billionaire couple shopping in Harrod's, lecturing his footballers and chumming with British MP's.

P. S. UK just gave a safe passage yet to another dictator, ex-President Musharraf of Pakistan.

3-Iron - Yet Another Ploy For Impressionable Critics

In his movie Russian Ark Aleksandr Sokurov covered the absence of plot or purpose with delirious dialogues. The protagonists (one of whom is invisible to make it more mysterious) exchange incoherent gobbledygook, often repeating the same line 3 or 4 times a row, or erupt in batshit monologues, which not quite unlike Family Guy’s manatee jokes have little to do with the plot. As there was none in Russian Ark it didn’t really matter.

Korean director Kim Ki-duk of the Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter... and Spring fame in his new film 3-Iron (as it goes in PoMo culture, the less relation the title has to the piece the cooler) did not even bother with lines. The main character remains silent for its entirety, his supporting actress says a few towards the end. With dead-pan faces theygo through the motions prescribed by the script. In its aesthetics and photography the film borrows heavily from Japanese manga strips, minus the speech balloons. A visually appealing threefold-hug final scene delivers the final blow to those wishing to appear in-the-know-of-all-things-Asian: it seems charged with symbolics, yet does not give any clue as per what the symbolics are driving at. It remains deliciously open to interpretation - the classic PoMo principle of absence of objective truth at work.

Pregnant silence between the characters keeps hinting at some deep meaning hidden from the uninitiated – probably the best ploy to lure film critics into the “mysterious Orient” trap. A sprinkle of Buddhist imagery and director’s reluctance to explain his opus are impeccable PR stints to secure media acclaim.

3-Iron is most reminiscent of that Asian Tantra shtick of having sex without ejaculation that leaves you feeling empty and cheated.

Why Is White Establishment So Afraid Of Rock, Soul And Blues?

I was mulling over possible reasons why is that such different political ideologies as American oligocratic capitalism and Soviet gerontocratic communism were so averse to rock, soul, reggae and blues music? The hate affair in America ended as soon as Black music started making money but in the USSR it held out until the country's collapse. That said, on the Stateside, even when after a long struggle Afro-American music became mainstream, the still-very-much-alive all-White Disco Sucks movement would sometimes erupt in outbursts like the infamous Disco Demolition Night.

I think it is the overblown perception of African sexuality as the sexuality of the Other that created the notion of actually any darker-skinned people as being early sexually mature, promiscuous and more potent. This idea has pervaded Western world since the time records started, i.e., Ancient Greece and Rome. African beat based music have thus bothered White hetero male establishment on both sides of the Iron Curtain as subconsciously associating with sexual licence, which powers that be naturally resent - ideological control of sexual activities is one of the powerful tool of mass manipulation.

Ironically, those who share this sentiment with the White establishment are those who are most abused by them : White undereducated blue-collar workers.

Figging - A Driving Force Of Global Colonialism?

Just when you thought you knew about every possible sexual practice - or at least have seen it in an episode of South Park - there comes up something new. A truly humbling experience.

Figging is a practice of sticking a piece of ginger up the anus (or sometimes the vagina) that was common in Victorian England. The burning sensation it causes does not damage the mucus and is supposed to be very arousing. Could this have been the hidden driving force of the British Empire expansion in the 19th century? It is rather easy to imagine how those suspiciously hyperactive Victorian gentlemen were driven to colonise half the world, invent most sports games and half the  modern technologies that we still use, by the burning sensation in their anuses.

There actually is a number of ways to boost your sexual drive with food. I have collected some free tips about aphrodisiac food. Or you can also make the taste of your ejaculation more agreeable by consuming certain kinds of food.

Please have a read and let me know what you think!

+ + + + +
Travel  yarns:

• Amsterdam Without Prejudice
• Sperm Shakes Recipes
• Sensually Transmitted Wanderlust
• Amsterdam: Where has all the spunk gone?
• One Day In Bangkok
• Morocco's Wonders
• Budapest's Turkish Baths
• New York: The Ultimate City Experience
• Moscow: The Splendours of the Wild East
• Prague: In The Land Of Whimsy
• Buenos Aires: Passion And The City
• Nifty Noshing - Ethnic Delights In The Privacy Of Your Home

How A Lost War Can Make You A Winner

It is an old political trick: nothing is like a won war to cure tumbling domestic popularity. Clinton bombed Serbia with depleted uranium to distract America from Ms. Lewinski blowjob prowess, Margaret Thatcher walloped Argentinians in the midst of her much hated economic shake-ups. There is even a movie about it: Wag The Dog.

But winning a war takes guts. The only guts Saakashvili has may be Condoleeza's balls of steel but one of the objectives of the war he started and lost is nevertheless met. Distracted by the anti-Russian hysteria in the mass media Georgians seem to have forgotten Saakashvili's trespassings:

Yet another none less important goal has been achieved. Public opinion in Georgia, which Russians consider a "brother country" has turned anti-Russian. This shall be quite instrumental in securing Georgia's positions as yet another peg in the strategy of Russia's containment.

The third goal: the pledge for more Western money and support. Without the major news splash that the South Ossetian conflict cause, Georgia would have stayed on the D-list of global politics. For Saakashvili it means one thing: Western aid reduces to a trickle. The spin doctors from the Belgian PR company that provided information control support for Georgian administration helped turn the tables around. Next few months watch American and European taxpayers' money pumped into Georgia by the billion.

Well done, Mikhail! In the absurd modern world of spin and political show business everything is upside down and the losers are oftentimes winners.

A good example of no-holds-barred American propaganda war: CNN uses footage of Tskhinvali shelled by the Georgians with the commentary about Russian attacks on Georgia:

Somebody Please Go Over And Laugh In His Face!

All too often it seems that the major qualification for the job as US President is keeping a straight face while spinning utterly shameless idiocies. It is also representative of the overall sheepish attitude of world’s press that no one dares to point out that Dubya’s public displays of verbal defection contradict every shade of common sense, basic propriety and human logic.

In the latest incident of such kind, US President George W Bush has accused Russia of "bullying and intimidation" in its military actions inside Georgia. Somebody needs to show him a mirror and say that this rhetoric is way too rich coming from someone who had American citizens blown up to start two wars on false pretences.

In a typical display of US media censorship practices a journalist remark about America's "disproportionate" response to 9/11 was cut off on live TV:

Faster, Higher, Stronger... And Conciser!

If the media is the message, what is the Olympic PR machine trying to tell us? Perhaps this.

If since the age of 6 all you ever do during your waking hours is eating, sleeping and swimming, whilst devouring industrial amounts of pasta, pizza and ham sandwiches on white bread with mayonnaise that amount to a whopping 12,000 calories a day, some day you will be just able to say, ‘It’s, like, cool, I mean, like, totally cool’ when you’ve won 10 gold medals in a row.

When Pierre de Coubertin set about laying the foundation of the modern Olympic movement in the late 19th century he was inspired by the ideals of Classical Greece and sports education in Anglo-Saxon colleges. Ancient Olympians - as well as US and British boarding school graduates - were gentlemen of the leisure class who on top of sportive also combined scientific and political pursuits. Coubertin became enamoured with the idea of exclusivity probably never envisaging that a century later there will crop up a a tiny specialised über-race of physical hyper-achievers giving the vicarious kicks of exercise excellence to misnourished masses plomped with a 6-pack and potato chips in front of their TVs.

Miliband's Bitter Words And Sour Grapes Go Largely Unheeded

Not that anyone in the world cares anyway, but one day after the French- mediated ceasefire in Georgia British Foreign Minister David "Batshit" Miliband delivered a fiery vitriol against Russian involvement in South Osetia. The only reason it became known is because the CNN didn’t have to translate it to put it on so they just did.


In the best tradition of Mock The Week, let’s dub his philippic with what he really means by what he says. Hugh Dennis and Frankie Boyle would be perfect at it!

So there we go, what Miliband actually means is in italics.

"Russia had been trying to assert the concept of "ex-Soviet space", which was "not acceptable".
("We won’t accept it but we can do nothing about it. Our hands are too short to try and squeeze Russia’s balls.")

"Russia had adopted a 19th Century approach and "blatant aggression" in Georgia, when it should be asserting itself economically."
("However, last time they gently wrung our balls peacefully and cut off our gas supply, we were very, very pissed just the same. They should better try to starve Georgians to death like we did to the Irish.")

"It's not good for Russia to continue to believe that it is suffering a hangover from the collapse of the Soviet Union.”
("It took us 60 years to get over the British Empire. You should do it quicker.")

“There's no such thing as ex-Soviet space."
("It may overlap with ex-British space. We don’t like it.")

"The "new map" of Eastern Europe had to be defended in the interests of stability and it was in Russia's interests to do so.
("We have invested too much into our Eastern satellites even though we think they are quiet backward. Where the heck is Georgia anyway?")

"Countries on Russia's borders need to know their territorial integrity was secure."
("That does not apply to Serbia because it does not border Russia. And who but independent Kosovo could make sure our cocaine supply won’t run out?")

"It's not in Russia's interests to continue to hanker for a Soviet past because frankly, it's gone and it's good that it's gone."
("Actually, I am talking about our dear Empire where the sun would never set. Wish we had Russia's guts and never had to suck up big time to our former colonies.")

Amy, Amy, Amy, Will We Have You Around For Long?

As Phill Jupitus aptly summed it up: "Is there anyone on whom Amy hasn't thrown up yet?"

So what's wrong with Ms. Wino, the North London Jewish blues goddess who sounds like Nina Simone, Billie Holiday and Erykah Badu rolled in a ball - with an übercool 21st-century twist on top of that?

Amy displays a typical inner conflict of a divorced parents’ child. She is trying to find the emotional stability she missed out in her split family by sticking with one guy through thick and thin. While this single-minded determination is highly plausible, Amy, being what she is – a very young lady with little life experience – was unfortunate enough to make a not so highly plausible choice. Blake’s bad guy vibe may be very sexy but he is definitely not the kind of guy a good girl should stick with. In Jungian terms, he’s Thumbelina’s jolly Beetle – the kind of guy that is only good until the fun of incessant partying and substance abuse wears off.

But here once again unfortunately, Ms. Winehouse shows signs of an addictive personality. Many of us are to a certain degree, which is determined by the way our brain’s glands produce various hormones. In the worst, yet very possible scenario she herself may wear off quicker than the fun of easily obtainable chemical bliss. The choice substance to abuse of the yesteryear, alcohol, that took away from us Billie Holiday and Edith Piaf, is no match to latter-day designer drugs. Amy may not hang around with us for much too long.

I can only guess from a distance which I am pretty good at, but on top of intervention Amy may need some intensive counselling. Most of time, drug abuse is symptomatic of a deep-lying unhappiness. Removing symptoms (weaning of drugs) will leave the cause of her erratic behaviour intact and hence the person herself open for more relapses.

People closest to Amy may not be willing or able to realize the real cause of Amy’s suffering. All I can do is to think of her during m daily metta-bhavana. I sincerely pray that she gets over her demons and keep giving us joy with her music.

You can forgive her ANYTHING for this:



and this:

Georgia's Flashy President Starts War, Gains No Meaningful Backing

I started my Sunday morning not the best way - by reading an hysterical first-page article in the NRC Handelsblad (the Dutch equivalent of the Times) about the current Russian-Georgian conflict. The author proclaims the man on whose orders Georgian tanks moved into South Ossetia - Bush's own flamboyant Mikhail Saakashvili - the only saviour of the nation. The NRC Handelsblad are known Russophobes - the very word 'Rusland' seems to make them salivate with venom - but this time they are not alone.

The whole international community that sponsored Kosovo's (technically illegal) breakaway from Serbia this time gangs up on Russia who stuck in for a tiny republic where 90% of the population voted to become independent from Georgia. Both sides clearly have vested interests in the region but double standards of the Western press are still shamelessly cynical. The very people who invented lies about Iraqi weapons of mass destruction to gain access to the country's oil are vociferously concerned now talk about Russia's international reputation.

Without digging to deep into it, the cause of the current warfare is Russia's (up to now) peaceful de-facto annexation of South Ossetia, a part of the New Great Game. Any power shift or attempt at such in the region roughly from Novorossiysk to Karachi and from Istanbul to Bishkek is in one way or another related to sharing the Central Asian oil-and-gas pie. It is noteworthy that despite all the worldwide media hoopla there has not been a single attempt to show the events in this context.

Russian quiet advance into Georgian separatist enclaves has been going for a while now and probably started when Russia realized that the USA and the NATO are tied up to the gills in Iraq and Afghanistan. First chink in the American armour showed in 2005 when Russians managed to get rid of American air bases in Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan. Using old connections, wielding new financial clout or teaming up with China - no holds are barred for Russia to squeeze pesky Americans from what Russians consider their own backyard - Central Asia and Caucasus.

Now that Russia's G8 bed-fellows are getting embroiled deeper and deeper in Iran's nuclear saga, on top of the forthcoming US elections and continuing turmoil with further EU consolidation, the new Russian administration must have seen their chance to use the ultima ratio regum to 'stabilize' the situation in the most volatile region - Northern Caucasus. We yet have to see if this is going to pan out - the chances are it will. Whatever the outcome, the only gainers will be oil magnates and politicians and the only losers - Ossetian and Georgian civilians.

Thou Shalt Not Make Unto Thee An Idol

Human nature can be inspiring and disappointing. Enjoy the highs, don't get put off by the lows - I keep reminding myself.

M. Scott Peck, whose book The Road Less Travelled had so much impact on me in the 90s, promoted self-discipline, spiritual quest and delay of gratification. His books espousing strong moral views and virtues of human growth sold tens of millions around the world. I remember the overwhelming sensation of seeing the world in a different light and colour upon devouring the book one balmy evening in Kuala Lumpur. I am pretty sure this feeling was replicated uncountable numbers of times across the globe. How epiphanic.

Some time ago I stumbled upon an obituary of his. It turns out Mr. Peck died alone, estranged from his children from a marriage ruined by multiple affairs, himself ruined by alcoholism and drug abuse. I do not try to belittle the man, the spiritual heights he achieved in his writing are still awe-inspiring. His fate, however, is a good reminder how weak the human nature is, that besides great epiphanies lurk even greater temptations.

It also turns out that Robert Frost's poem, after whose penultimate line Mr. Peck's series of books was named, in fact, was written in jest and is NOT a paean to non-conformism but, for all that we know, might well be a tribute to the poet's own experimentations with anal sex. Now don't you feel yourself a fool?

For over two decades German Oliver Shanti produced most beautiful New Age music, drawing inspiration from a broad span of cultures: Chinese, Indian, Middle Eastern, Latin and Native American, Spanish. Tens of themed albums were packed with sublime melodies. Millions of people have meditated, did yoga and made love to his musical creations.

On the 27th of June, 2008, after a years-long search, he was arrested in Portugal on over three hundred charges of paedophilia. Truly, Heaven and Hell can co-exist in human souls.

Where Has All The Spunk Gone?

See also here:

• Aphrodisiac Food
• Amsterdam Without Prejudice
• Sperm Shakes Recipes
  
• Sensually Transmitted Wanderlust
• Figging: When You Thought You Knew All About Sex!
  
• One Day In Bangkok
• Morocco's Wonders
• Budapest's Turkish Baths
• New York: The Ultimate City Experience
  
• Moscow: The Splendours of the Wild East
• Prague: In The Land Of Whimsy
• Buenos Aires: Passion And The City
• Nifty Noshing - Ethnic Delights In The Privacy Of Your Home
  

Last weekend Gay Pride came to town. In Amsterdam it is a canal parade. Zonked out attention- seekers in skimpy underwear, bored looking drag queens and an occasional fag hag jadedly bobbed to the rhythm of blaring techno as the overloaded boats slowly passed under the low-hanging medieval bridges.

Year in, year out same feather boas, blue wigs and sequinned boxers are dusted out for the Canal Parade. Ostensibly a gay right empowerment event, in reality it is one worldwide gay meat market, a sure fat chance to exchange bodily liquids with someone new. There is not much going on except for beer guzzling, blowing, snorting, shagging and overpriced disco nights with the same mind-numbing music from the 90s that is supposed to be gay favourite. Even the anchorman on the local Amsterdam TV station that actually bothered to broadcast the tired fest in its entirety kept asking, 'Why has it become so lame?'



Indeed, why? If a specially organized once-a-year event is so jaw-dislocatingly boring, the rest of the year is even less inspiring. Bar proprietors blame the Euro and the net. New currency doubled the cost of going out and online dating services took over the social routine of mixing and mingling with real people. These days you can land a lay with a click of the mouse for the price of your monthly ADSL subscription that in Amsterdam is about what you pay for five Baccardi Breezers.

It may also be that when being gay has stopped being political it took away the fizz of being different and having to stand up for your rights. Now it just boils down to the same old shag. After all sex is the only thing that unites the so-called gay community.

Trying to compete with Gaydar and Chatboy.nl, all Amsterdam's gay discos have installed cruising facilities, so nowadays a lot of action takes place on the premises. The icing of the going-out cake has become the cake itself. You do not need to socialize, dance around, stay on the prowl - you can just go upstairs, pounce, shoot and go back home. The chasing has been removed from the chase, all is left is the shortcut to ejaculation. The energy that used to go into dancing and having a good time now goes directly on sex. Dance clubs offering easy solutions for the punters have morphed into semen-exchanging facilities.

Amsterdam gay night life has become as flaccid as a post-coital penis. There is no need for it to stay hard all night. It gets spent before anything starts.

+ + + + +

There actually is a number of ways to boost your sexual drive with food. I have collected some free tips about aphrodisiac food. Please have a read and let me know what you think!

+ + + + +

See also here:

• Amsterdam Without Prejudice
• Sperm Shakes Recipes
  
• Sensually Transmitted Wanderlust
• Figging: When You Thought You Knew All About Sex!
  
• One Day In Bangkok
• Morocco's Wonders
• Budapest's Turkish Baths
• New York: The Ultimate City Experience
  
• Moscow: The Splendours of the Wild East
• Prague: In The Land Of Whimsy
• Buenos Aires: Passion And The City
• Nifty Noshing - Ethnic Delights In The Privacy Of Your Home

Nabokov And Dostoevsky

Nabokov's narcissistic excellence of style and a perfect imitation of hints of content makes him probably the first Post-Modern author. The dazzling brilliance of his narration made it possible to dupe armies of professional critics into believing that Lolita actually was a novel about something. However, if you manage to see past the blows and whistles, there is little but a calculated marketing effort to establish him in the Anglo-Saxon book market. What better ploy could one come up with than writing about Americans’ most sensitive spot – child abuse. It’s another topic why Americans are so fascinated with this particular theme that seems to both excite and disgust them. At any rate, Nabokov made the right choice to establish his writing career in the English-speaking world.

In this respect Nabokov’s outspoken hate of Dostoevsky is noteworthy because in a very fundamental way they are total opposites. On one hand we have Nabokov’s stylistic finesse and meticulous attention to detail coupled with the craftily masqueraded absence of content. On the other - Dostoevsky’s awe-inspiring insights into the abysses of human psychology and scarily profound eternal questions of humanity contrasting with feverish, at times even uncouth style, the literary equivalent of Van Gogh's paintings. Dostoevsky was exuberantly abundant in what Nabokov lacked spectacularly: meaningful content and purpose of the plot. Nabokov's sheer intellectual resplendence leaves little doubt that he must have been well aware of that fact.

It is only logical that Nabokov with his piercing analytical ability in linguistic and meticulous attention for detail in style was a translator par excellence. He was a perfect critique and renderer of other people’s works, but when telling his own stories he had to be a pretender, shrouding the absence of his own ideas in an exuberant toga of style with panache matched by a precious few, Oscar Wilde among them.

Nabokov is no doubt a fascinating read. He dazzles you with his intellect and style, carries you away with the enticing plot but at the end of the journey you feel peculiarly empty. All his big promises ends up in an empty flop, something akin to dining on fireworks: mind-boggling and exhilirating but leaving your stomach full of choking smoke. There is nothing in his writing warranting another go.

Dostoevsky's novels on the other hand overwhelm you with the depth and profundity of newly discovered meanings and revelations every time you open the book again. Once you get used to his angsty, strained style, he takes you away on journeys very much alike to Dante's Inferno trip.

To me Nabokov represents Satan's quantitative infinity: an endless entertaining variety for its own sake, metaphorically a beach rave party. When the crazy night of drug-frenzied frolicking wears off, you wake up in the ankle-deep waters amongst empty cans and other flotsam. Both Dostoevsky and Nabokov share the quality of greatness in that the former is the ultimate literary titan, while the latter is the ultimate literary fop.

Amsterdam Rednecks

There are a lot of people in Amsterdam who have never been there. Well, physically they are present within the city limits, in the tightly-knit continuum of work – supermarket – home – pub, which has precious little to do with the bustling cosmopolitan port of Amsterdam, a melting pot of nations, cultures and cuisines, the springboard to the world.

Even among the supposedly enlightened educated middle-class professionals I know people who have never met a gay person, have never eaten a shrimp and whose idea of a vacation abroad is going camping to Belgium in a caravan stocked with frozen Dutch food. Amsterdam may be host to 160 nationalities but most people stay in their ethnic comfort zone, hanging out exclusively with their own kind.

It must be the same deal everywhere: only a fraction of big cities’ populations are interested in international lifestyles. Tokyo may have baffling scores of authentic ethnic restaurants frequented by locals but that is as far as 9 out of 10 Tokyoites venture out in their kokusaika (move towards a more cosmopolitan society) quest. “Japanese restaurant on Monday, Indian on Tuesday, and on Wednesday, Carribbean – not too spicy please” may be a New York socialites’ lunch schedule but they wouldn’t be able (and care) to locate on the map where the cuisine comes from.

Amsterdam is world- renown as a vibrant bulwark of liberalism, the beacon of tolerance and multi- culturalism but in reality more than a half of the autochtoon (ethnic Dutch) populace here are first- generation arrivals from staunch Protestant and Catholic villages where lifestyles and views are not much different from the American Bible Belt. The official Dutch social policy of verzuiling (pillarisation), still alive in practice and people’s minds today, likens the Netherlands to a sail ship, where the sails (classes, races and religious groups) hang separately on separate masts but all contribute to propelling the Dutch ship forward.

With such live-and-let-live attitudes prevalent in the city, the pressure to integrate is non-existent. Acceptance is never asked for, while doggedly cultivated indifference is marketed as tolerance. Back home in the Dutch flatland hicks, those very same recent urbanite converts would time after time keep electing Christian Democrats whose programme is a very far cry from what we think of as Dutch liberalism. In the city, tolerance exists on the level of general ideas, as the Dutch Dream, a self-image that probably cropped up as a defence mechanism against the sense of national guilt about Dutch collaboration during the WWII.

This carefully cultivated identity appears more and more divorced from reality as daily challenges of living in a racially mixed society prove too much to handle for tender Dutchness. Many burgers find refuge in their set daily routines and racist tabloid headlines. But then again, this is nothing new nor endemically Dutch.

Does A Gay Identity Actually Exist?

Does it actually exist? The only thing that binds people in gay bars is that they don’t have sex with women. Otherwise, they have as much in common as any random crowd in the street. Unlike Blacks, Asians, the disabled or women there is not a single cultural or physiological trait that unites homosexuals into a group, save the preference for certain ways of disposing of bodily liquids. That is more a hobby than a valid identity. The public image of flamboyant prancers in feather boas and skimpy underwear reflects the lifestyle of but a loud minority of attention-hungry extroverted queers, the so called scene.

Homosexual identity is as valid as heterosexual identity. You don’t hang out with other heteros just because you prefer sex with women – unless it’s a singles bar or a swingers party. Same applies to gays: they get together when they crave a cock. At all other times they have as much common ground as any randomly picked heterosexuals.

Constructed as a tool to fight for the right to have sex with one's partner of choice, gay identity now backfires at the average homosexual Joe who has nothing to do with the perceived public image of his fellow cock-lovers.

The most admirable concept of sexuality can be found in medieval Japan before stale Victorian prudery arrived there in the late 19th century. Having no biblical story of Sodom to refer to, the Japanese treated sexuality as a whole - there was no subdivision into heterosexual and homosexual. Any genitals-related activity was just sexuality, a practice, not an identity. The only taboo and persecuted practice was sexual violence and coercion. Instead of pigeon-holing every minute deviation from the missionary penis-in-vagina procreational standard, Japan embraced sex in all its manifestations. Perhaps, a lesson to learn for the West.