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See previous photograph of  No. vision

Guido

More info: about

ik schuim niet
als de zee
niet als bier
ik schuim
als een oude man

purchase it on ebay this week

steven klein photos

Dutch altar girls in the church.

Guido

# new blog: toiletlandcapes

Dutch, the language of the Netherlands, is dying and not too many people have noticed. I am not referring to the 90% of the world population unaware that Dutch is a language nor for that matter that the Netherlands is a country. I am talking about Dutch speakers, mostly in the Netherlands and Belgium. Few of them are aware of their language’s nearing demise. Almost all of them speak English and a good number of them are competent in German and French as well, not to mention all those who also are somewhat proficient in one to five other languages.
But it is English that is the pernicious killer here. English for years has been the most popular language for pop music, with most of any week’s top ten songs being sung not in Dutch but in English. Such a preference for not-my-mother tongue is unheard and unheard of in Germany, France and Spain.
English is the language of business in Holland and Belgium, certainly in the multinationals and also in the import and export trade which is the lifeblood of these economies. Here, English is trendy.
English has also in the last decade become the academic language of choice. In a successful attempt to attract foreign students, Dutch and Flemish universities and other institutes of higher learning require their professors to conduct their classes in English, even if both the professor and the majority of students in a given class are Dutch and Flemish. It does not take a Delphic oracle to conclude that once the highest level of education is given in a foreign language, the most educated people in these countries (1) will become even more proficient in English and, (2) will, perhaps subconsciously, come more and more to associate their native language as something to speak only, if it all, at home and in shops — an aboriginal dialect.
The trend here, where not only almost every educated person speaks English but where also almost everyone is educated, is accelerating. For at least a generation professional programmers have eschewed translations of technical manuals, preferring the precision and — let’s admit it — better general readability of the original English versions.
Dutch is not yet dead. It does and will survive in pubs and family gatherings, as the tongue of nostalgia and gezelligheid – that lovely and untranslatable Dutch/Flemish word and feeling combining sociability, friendliness, jolliness, merriment, comfort and coziness. But the language itself may be, probably is, dying. One recent case in point: Los diez grandes inventos de la evolución. That is the title of the Spanish translation of Nick Lane’s wonderful new book Life Ascending, The Ten Great Inventions of Evolution, 2009. I bought my copy here in Amsterdam, in a Dutch bookstore, in the original version, the English version.
Where is the Dutch translation? There isn’t one. People here who read books by biochemists read English.
Q.E.D.

I know this is skipping ahead of Dublin and Amsterdam . . . I just opened my notebook to rip out a clean sheet, and I remembered I wrote a bit of a mini-entry while on the bus to Paris. I drew little accompanying pictures as well.
(I can’t bear to go back yet and write everything down now.)
Forgive me.

At a stop in Rotterdam, FLANDERS. Karen “Ther” Bates just got off the Eurolines bus, ordered McDonald’s, and paid 30 cents to vomit. In Belgium. She is Tinkerbell.

Paris in 6 more hours, and the next stop is Brussels/Bruxelles. So basically, someone’s thrown up in almost every country. The Vomit World Tour.
England- me
Ireland- Gam
Nether./Belg.- Karen
France- ______???

This land is FLAT.
Listening to Beirut’s “Interior of a Dutch House”, driving through the Dutch countryside. I’ve seen things that some people will never see. I guess that makes them beautiful: constellations from the other side of the world; rows of wind turbines in a flat land; a lone basket of marmalades and “chocolade pastas”; an old couple sitting together silently in a park; a girl younger than me, selling herself in a window. You wonder what sort of sacrifices she makes.

Writers sometimes refer to a traveller as a purer form of being; DeLillo and Eggers come to mind, because they’re so obvious about it. Even though we’re doing a highly organised version of backpacking (that is, we made reservations and bought tickets beforehand rather than “going with the flow”…) it takes an enormous amount of your old self out. I have to learn how to be patient and forgiving to the people I’m with, deal with their idiosyncrasies and sometimes HUGE FAULTS while managing my own, having a 3-day purely natural crash course in the local culture or language.
(I know “enough” Dutch now. I can read commercials.)

The pure traveller should collect scenes and people and conversations and moments. All I’m collecting are little scraps of paper and mounting irritation at how self-perpetuating the stereotypes against Americans are. Basically the “What the hell IS THIS? How do you even pronounce that? Who speaks English here? I’m freaking out.”
So freak out.
Get on with your life and stop embarrassing the normal meshing/existence of people around you. Maybe they don’t have a common language with you, but getting progressively louder and shouting in their face will get you no where except kicked out.

I WISH I could go with the flow and travel as I like, but there are so many problems with this. A girl surrounded by strangers rarely bodes well, in the long run. You either need to have a lot of money or a complete lack of… shame? self-regard? You need to be willing to do what you have to do to get around. I’ve seen these people already, with their cardboard signs and offers of “barter.”

Okay. Donc.
-I notice I’ve been speaking [to our group] in terms of “we” and what “we’re” doing, etc.
-I’ve lapsed into a mix of English, French, Dutch, and Spanish. Chris has, as well. We are communicating in a messy language soup.
-Living entirely in the present somehow means I remember very little of what we do every day. (Busy absorbing foreign data rather than collecting and cataloging.) One advantage of living in the past: you remember things because of comparing them.

Antwerp, Belgium looks a lot like Troy, New York from the highway.

TROP DE BRUIT.
“Would you like to go out tonight?” Said Tristan to Iseult. We’ll be out in Paris tonight, which is très bizarre. Spent my entire life wanting this. It’s been 3 years since high school and wanting to “get out.” The past week has felt like a year. When this trip is over, we’ll have been in 5 different countries, which is mind-blowing.
I’m eating a “chocolade tarwebiscuit”, which brings me back to my days of Keebler’s Fudge Ring cookies. (Chocolade Tarwe biscuit–> “chocolate wheat cookie”)
We stop in Brussels soon, so I imagine we’ll be picking up a lot more passengers. Right now, everybody has their own double seat, with 2 extra left over on the coach (because they’re suspicious damp?) So we all took a quick nap.

It’s just hard to accept that I’m driving through a chunk of Europe on a bus, listening to a carefully-constructed playlist I began way back in high school. More crowning achievements in my life.

Sitting on a park bench that’s older than my country.

Hydroplaning coach bus. Ok, full bus.
The outskirts of Mons, Belgium look like North Brunswick.
WHERE ALL MY WALLOONS AT!

This morning after a portrait shoot I saw this fallen toilet landscape. See all the toilet landscapes on a new blog:  toiletlandcapes

Guido

More info: about

Zevenhuizen,The Netherlands

 

all pictures are © Guido Benschop

Watchman, tell us of the night,
What its signs of promise are.
Traveler, o’er yon mountain’s height,
See that glory beaming star.
Watchman, does its beauteous ray
Aught of joy or hope foretell?
Traveler, yes—it brings the day,
Promised day of Israel.

Watchman, tell us of the night;
Higher yet that star ascends.
Traveler, blessedness and light,
Peace and truth its course portends.
Watchman, will its beams alone
Gild the spot that gave them birth?
Traveler, ages are its own;
See, it bursts o’er all the earth.

Watchman, tell us of the night,
For the morning seems to dawn.
Traveler, darkness takes its flight,
Doubt and terror are withdrawn.
Watchman, let thy wanderings cease;
Hie thee to thy quiet home.
Traveler, lo! the Prince of Peace,
Lo! the Son of God is come!

John Bowring [Sir] died this date, 11/23/1872, at Devon, England.  His trade/ manufacture was in woolen goods.  It was so extensive that it increased his natural abilities in languages.  One report has him flu­ent in over twenty (20) lan­guages and speaking eighty (80) more.  Another report would place his speaking skills as high as a hundred (100) languages with a limited knowledge of up to two hundred (200).  In either case he had a phenomenal God–given strength and seems could carry on business in following named tongues: Boheman, Danish, Dutch, French, German, Italian, Polish, Portuguese, Russian, Serbian, Spanish, Swedish. 

He served twice in Parliament, held several high government positions to foreign countries including being the governor of Hong Kong, and was knight by Queen Victoria.  In addition to all the worldly fame he had a deep interest in God as the above hymn shows and as his additional twenty (20) some others show.  His more famous one is “In the Cross of Christ I Glory” – see 10/17/2009 of this blog.

Laidback Luke and Gregor Salto have given us this HUGE HOUSE BOMB, and Abel Ramos has given us another impressive remix. Really wonderful shit. Enjoy.
Laidback Luke & Gregor Salto feat. Mavis Acquah – Step By Step (Big Room Mix)

Laidback Luke & Gregor Salto feat. Mavis Acquah – Step By Step (Abel Ramos Harlem With Love Mix)

Hartelijk Gefeliciteerd, is Happy Birthday in Dutch, and 62 years ago today my mother was born in the Netherlands.

I wanted to take the chance here to wish her a happy birthday.  God blessed me the day he sent me to her.  She has loved me, and cared for me unselfeshly for every single day of my life.  I have to agree with Honest Abe who said, “Everything I am today I owe to my angel mother.”

There are lots of young men who feel a special connection to their moms, but life’s circumstance have definelty made our relationship unique and priceless.

When I broke my neck in the summer of 1986, she stayed by my side, in the hospital nearly every day.  She championed my cause then, and still does today.  I comb my own hair, brush my own teeth, write on my own and feed myself all because of her encouragement.  Afetr my accident, I attended High School with my friends because she was willing to lift me 16 times a day.  She never worried about the detriment she was causeing her back, only the progress she was bringing my life.

She pushed me when it probably killed her to, but it’s what’s allowed me to be independent today. (You can read about one example here)

Now, as I watch her with Coleman, she is the consumate Grandma.  She loves him more unconditionally.  After he was born, as I came out to tell everyone in the waiting room that all had gone well, my eyes met hers, she ran to me and we cried together.  She was one of the few people that could understand the road it took from July 13, 1986 to January, 27, 2009.

I love her with all my heart.  I love that she loves Kolette like a daughter.  I love that she loves Cole as a son.  I love the way she always loved my friends (ask any of them, they’ll all tell you how great she is.) I love that she’s always been my friend. And I love that a loving Heavenly Father saw fit to send me to her. Whatever good ever comes from my life is as a result of her tender care.

So today, Hartelijk Gefeliciteerd, Mom!

I Love You

Jh-

Security experts report that a malicious worm is tunneling its way through Dutch iPhones

This may be one of those “I told you so” moments that gives comfort to people on both sides of the Apple-Microsoft divide: Those who claim that Apple’s (AAPL) products are no more immune to malware attacks than Microsoft’s (MSFT), and those who insist that Apple’s operating systems are nearly impenetrable, as long as you play by the rules.

According to the Dutch security firm XS4ALL, a software worm has been spreading through the Netherlands that can seize control of iPhones without their owners’ knowledge and hand it over to a server in Lithuania.

“This worm is doing really bad things,” XS4ALL’s Scott McIntyre told security.nl.

Only a few hundred iPhones have been infected so far, according to the BBC. But if the worm gets into large Wi-Fi networks, thousands could be at risk.

This is the third reported iPhone malware incident in as many weeks and by far the most dangerous.

In early November, a Dutch hacker seized control of jailbroken iPhones and posted a message offering to make them secure again for 5 euros. A week later, an unemployed programmer in Australia released a worm that changed the iPhone’s background image to a picture of pop singer Rick Astley, a sly reference to Rickrolling, one of the Internet’s most popular pranks (some 21 million fooled).

The new worm targets customers who use their iPhone to do online banking at ING through T-Mobile. To be at risk, the phones must be jailbroken — something Apple advises strongly against — have SSH (secure shell) installed, and have left the original password (“alpine”) unchanged.

“As we’ve said before, the vast majority of customers do not jailbreak their iPhones, and for good reason,” an Apple spokesperson told The Loop’s Jim Dalrymple. “These hacks not only violate the warranty, they will also cause the iPhone to become unstable and not work reliably.”

Infected phones can be returned to their original condition by restoring the current Apple-supplied firmware through iTunes.

UPDATE: Sophos reports that the worm is using IP address 92.61.38.16 for command and control of jailbroken iPhones. Mobile operators you may want to block or at least monitor activity trying to communicate with this IP address.

See also:

• Why are there no Mac viruses?
• About those gangs of Russian hackers targeting Macs
• How to get “Rickrolled”

[Follow Philip Elmer-DeWitt on Twitter @philiped]

I have never been a massive fan of the German language. At school the rolling consonants of Spanish and French were far more alluring to me than the ichts and the bichts of German and learning it was never really contemplated. Whereas I often fantasize about doing more in Spanish than vamosing al cine, discussing Apollinaire in French with my French superstar-DJ/ artist/ model boyfriend and conversing with the Cosa Nostra or Miuccia Prada in fluent Italian, yearnings relating to German chat have pretty much evaded me. Even during my wanting-to-be-a-spy phase I figured a way round the consolatory five languages without learning German; Spanish, French, Italian, Japanese and Dutch. (Was very into Amsterdam at the time.)

In fact only on two occasions have I ever really wished that I spoke German. The first was upon finding myself phoneless and lost on the first night of a German dance festival at around three in the morning. Had I have been able to speak German it may never have reached the point where  I decided that best course of action would be to find the first randomer willing to accept 5 Euros so that I could call my parents….. who were on holiday in Italy at the time (and FAST asleep,) to cry about being lost. Although….. maybe  I would have done the same even with the power of the German tongue. Who knows.

The other was when I heard this song……

Wir Werden Sehen – Solomun Vox Remix

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P-ZlTZu2uFs

I want to sing in German…just like her.

My Old Dutch is a pancake specialised restaurant where you choose from a choice of different pancakes, savory or sweet. The pancake here is big which are served on this big dutch China plates that are really heavy.

You can choose fro already created pancakes or even make you own with a choice of topic. So you can create you own savory pancake or if you like something sweet then you can create your own sweet pancake.

On this particular evening I felt like having a savory pancake and went for the My Old Dutch pancake. This contained smoked bacon, chicken, ham, sweet peppers, mushroom, sweet corn and cheese. But thinking about it I could not remember tasting the sweet corn or ham. Although I could have thought some of the ham was smoked bacon. However it was nice meaty pancake which I could only eat half of it.  A small stomach like mine the pancake here I can share with another.

Although I only had half of it I was craving for a sweet pancake and took a bite off another plate It was one of the sweet pancake with peaches and ice cream. This give pancakes another feel from the savory pancake. This pancake was nice but I prefer the apple and cinnamon sweet pancake which I had before as a dessert after dining nearby in the area.

As well as pancake they also do waffles and dutch apple pie as other sweet alternatives. If you have enough room you can even start off some starters, which there are a range of dutch delicacy such as kaasballen (deep fried cheese balls) and bitterballen (dutch meatballs). There are also a range of salads of those who want something to go with you pancake or maybe you watching you calories and need an alternative when you there with pancakes eaters.

There are a range of drinks to go with you pancakes including fruit beers but my favourite are their milk shakes. If there are extras which does not fit in your glass they will give you that extra in the metal flask that your milkshake was shake up.

It was quite busy on a Saturday evening but did not really had to wait for a table. However if you came on pancake day you will see outside a long queue.

My Old Dutch (Holborn)
131-132 High Holborn
Holborn
London
WC1V 6PS

http://www.myolddutch.com/

After discovering More Cafe in Dubai,i really became a regular guest on my off days.

Such honest,fresh no-nonsense comfort food in a perfect surrounding and atmosphere!

Easily can spend here hours and hours,just perfect food and excellent for a perfect chillout.

Very famous is their; “build your own burger” which comes on a etaigiere with all the condiments for the burger.

Also this time i tried their Dutch Potato salad,which is potato,apple,gurkens,parsley and mayonaise,mmm,i taste my home!!!

Unique presentations of food and beverage and i love the style of the interieur!

MoreCafe(s) is absolutely recommended by PastryNetwork!!!!

Best regards Sebastiaan

Nobody’s been using Latin much — at least not for a couple hundred years — so the British have taken possession of it.

Americans could never own Latin. For one thing, the Romans never even visited New York. And the Brits had already beaten them to it. By the time America was breaking free of England, Latin was already a wholly-owned subsidiary of English. This is ironic, because if the Romans had kept their empire intact a bit longer, English would have been an obscure Germanic dialect.

The Brits own Latin. They write all the textbooks. The definitive texts of Roman authors are the Oxford editions. In movies, Romans almost always speak with a British accent. Even Russell Crowe, who is Australian, followed this rule.

If America wants to take over any language, it should be Dutch. After all, New York used to be called Nieuw Amsterdam. It was the capital of Nieuw Nederland, which took up a good part of what is now New England. There are all sorts of Dutch names on maps of New York: Brooklyn, the Bronx, Coney Island, the Bowery, Yonkers. Like the Romans, the Dutch once ruled a mighty empire. And they make great chocolate, something the Romans never mastered, since they never got around to conquering Mexico.

Dutch is a beautiful language, quite similar to English, but without as many annoying spelling rules. It’s almost impossible to be unpleasant while speaking Dutch. Even insults sound just moderately rude in Nederlands.

Julius Caesar and his army did visit England —Britannia to them — and left all sorts of ruins to prove they had occupied the island (except for Scotland, because —well, why bother?) Because of their long acquaintance with the Romans, the British were in a position to snatch up Latin when the barbarians set it out on the bargains table.

As a result, once English grammarians got around to dissecting their own language, Latin seemed infinitely more logical. Many rules of English grammar spring from the realities of Latin. For example, the rule ‘never split an infinitive.’ In Latin, one can’t split an infinitive because it is one word. English infinitives are always two words: to go, to see, to want.  Following this rule replaces normal expressions such as ‘to boldly go where no man has gone before’ with odd phrasings — ‘boldly to go’ or ‘to go boldly.’  What do we do with “We expect the population to more than double”? Dax is not willing to boldly attempt a rewording of that sentence.

Another example is prepositions. As we all know, “A preposition is something you never end a sentence with.”  The Romans never did. They knew that ‘pre-’ means before, and saw no reason to put them anywhere else.

But English is structurally a Germanic language, with lots of phrasal verbs like ‘be afraid of’ and ‘be proud of.’ In Latin these are one word – timere, superbire – and take either a direct object (not a prepositional phrase) or some sort of ablative (means, cause, etc.) An English writer can reword sentences to avoid putting prepositions at the end, but sometimes it sounds worse than the original ‘incorrect’ sentence, especially if it’s a question. “Who are you talking about?” becomes “About whom are you talking?”

Dax is a Latinist; he tries to follow the rules, however silly it makes him sound. He avoids splitting infinitives and leaving prepositions hanging onto the end of a sentence, but normal people give him strange looks. For a while he even gave up contractions, but it made him sound like a robot. He still tries to pronounce double consonants, and pronounces the silent ‘t’ in ‘often’ and ‘subtle.’ People frequently ask him, “What country did you grow up in?”

His reply is always the same: “I think you mean, ‘Up in what country did you grow?’”

But back to New Amsterdam. The editors of Edaxicon would like to make the Dutch an offer: we want your language. You may keep using it, of course. We will simply borrow its grammar and spelling rules and apply them to English, begin promoting Dutch in our schools, and change place names back to the original Dutch.

The benefits to Americans? We can stop getting into arguments about prepositions and infinitives. We can stop feeling ashamed that we don’t know what a declension is. We will be much nicer people.

Walking on the street near by the NAI (Netherlands Architecture Institute), Rotterdam

Guido

More info: about

New blog: Toiletslandscapes

BIG DUTCH HOUSE TRACK!
N.A.S.A. – Whachadoin (Alvaro Remix)

HOTT AS MASH-UP! Ironically it’s a mash-up of two tracks done by Afrojack. The first is his remix of Larry Tee’s “Let’s Make Nasty” and the other his the song “Toyfriend” he did with David Guetta. Enjoy!
Larry Tee & Roxy Cottontail vs. Afrojack & David Guetta – Nasty Toyfriend (Flavo Bootleg)

Afrojack is at it again with his usual awesomeness. This is only a rip from a live set but it definitely gives us something to look forward to. Enjoy!
Tocadisco feat. Nadia Ali – Better Run (Afrojack Remix) [RIP]

Title: Stop stalking. Start talking. Hoe ervaren Belgische journalisten de samenwerking met pr-verantwoordelijken en -bedrijven? Hoe efficiënt zijn de meest gangbare methodes om te communiceren met de pers?
Company: Quadrant Communications
Introduction:

“Hoe ervaren Belgische journalisten de aanpak van pr-verantwoordelijken? Worden ze wel op de juiste manieren benaderd? Wat vinden ze handig, wat stoort hen, wat kan beter? En hoe populair zijn social media (blogs, Twitter, Facebook en dergelijke) eigenlijk bij journalisten? Uit onze dagelijkse contacten met de pers kunnen we weliswaar een en ander afleiden, maar het kon volgens ons geen kwaad om het eens rechtuit te vragen.”

Type: Study / Whitepaper
Download: Whitepaper_journalistenenqute-NL
More info: Quadrant Communications

Lissa and I just had a good (and slightly mortified) laugh while studying for our Dutch class.  The story begins with the fact that we haven’t been eating much meat here, and Lissa was feeling like she might be lacking iron in her diet.  So she suggested we have steak on Friday, which sounded great to me.  And it was.  She went to the Vrijdag Markt and picked up a fresh cut from a butcher, watching him fillet it for her.  It was on special, and the promotional tag said something about Texas.  People were snatching it up, so it seemed like the cut to buy.  She didn’t know exactly what she was getting, but it looked and tasted like flank steak.  We both found it extremely tender and delicious, and our carnivorous cravings were well quenched by the meal.  Then we came across the word ‘paard’ in our Dutch grammar book.  Lissa recognized the word–the cut of meat she purchased was ‘paardenfillet’.  ‘Paard’ means horse!