There is a particularly thriving cinema scene here in the Netherlands. The town I live in has a cozy but slightly expensive bar/lounge/cafe/movie theater which shows primarily select release movies, and had a really interesting John Cassavetes retrospective. The odd thing is that it seems to cater to an older audience and I don't speak any Dutch so I can't converse with people about the films. They also had a french film festival and a film club which showed primarily french films. It was interesting to see The 400 blows in french with Dutch subtitles. I'd seen The 400 blows three times previously with english subtitles. I knew the plot already and was able to disassociate myself from the dialogue and focus on the images. I enjoy the feelings that Truffaut evokes in me in his films from his perspective as a film maker. Kafka on the Shores mentions francios truffaut, "...you've hit the nail on the head. you find the same spirit animating Truffaut. a persistent, inward-moving spirit that's filled with a pliant, youthful sort of curiosity." I walked home whistling the theme, which was used for The Dreamers soundtrack and footage for some of the film's clips.

I hope that you all are well. Just wanted to talk about the film scene as a kind of reminder.

Herow!

New posts like old jokes something something something.

So I lurked my families blogs.
So I lurked the Hoffman's blogs (sorry about the slogging).
And I don't know if y'arel (you are all) lurking mine.

I'm in the Netherlands for a few brief days until Annie's arrival!
I'm interested to use the interaction as a seeming benchmark between me pre and me post my experiences in Europe. It has been snowing for the past five days and, "It doesn't show signs of stopping." (Am I quoting a song or dialogue from a movie?) It usually doesn't snow often here from what I hear and I've witnessed some warm country dwellers experience snow for the first time.



I like to watch the way that the Dutch do things. For instance everyone here bikes and no one wears a helmet. This becomes especially dangerous when people pile themselves and sometimes up to three children on their bicycles. While it has been snowing here they have set up rope tows in the major markets. I watched a woman and her child as they were pulled across the market on a tiny sled and thought about how easily something could go wrong.







Another thing that seems interesting is that in this snow storm the town is going crazy. Rumor has it that this is the largest snow storm for the past five years. It is obvious that the town is totally unprepared, but funny to see people inches away from passing trucks on streets covered in snow 30cm thick.

I'm just going to post some videos and photos for now with a quick update.
More to come.

This is pro skater Ali Boulala born January 28, 1979.

Growing up and skateboarding I was first introduced to Ali Boulala in an article which had the journalist posed as a fake private eye attempting to follow Ali Boulala around Europe and photograph him. Ali Boulala lived in the United States until being deported for underage drinking. After that he set up permanent residences in Barcelona and Lyon, France. While having permanent apartments would exclude him from the moniker "gypsy" his lifestyle more than feel in line with the somewhat pejorative term. His personality was that of someone who didn't appear to care about tomorrow at any point in time. This is not to be misconstrued as having a deathwish, rather he was too busy living and doing it in high fashion.


Warning some subjectively objectionable content

I really looked up to Ali Boulala when I was younger. Not specifically as a life role model, but for his style, passion for living, and his overall reckless existence. He was part of a group of Skateboards known as the Piss Drunx This includes primarily skateboards from the Baker skateboarding team. The piss drunx seem to have morphed into Shake Junt in the recent years as the original members are either committed to lives of sobriety or are no longer able to skateboard. Of the original members.

Erik Ellington
Dustin Dollin
Ali Boulala (incarcerated)
Jim Greco (recovering Alcoholic, Heroin addict)
Andrew Reynolds (recovering alcoholic)

The baker team were one of the "bad boys" of skateboarding. They had a very specific style which primarily was that of partying, living for the day, and having little if no regard for the future. Their recklessness is informed by styles of punk, and gypsy, while their mode of fashion was heavily influenced by glam. This mixture of styles was spawned in Southern Californian culture. Of the Piss Drunx Ali Boulala and Jim Greco are and were considered pioneers in skateboarding fashion. While I never had the courage to attempt some of their more outlandish clothing choices I was still influenced and inspired by their creativity in dress.

On March 6th 2007 Ali Boulala and Shane Cross were involved in a motorcycle accident while neither was wearing helmets. According to wikipedia (I was unable to find a photo) Ali Boulala released a deck four years prior in 2003 to promote his part in the film really sorry. The deck depicts Ali Boulala drinking a beer on top of his motorcycle, which has now come to have a chillingly prophetic meaning. Very similar to Alfonso Ponce de Leon's self portrait. In the self portrait he depicts himself in a car crash which he died in a few years after painting it. Both Ali Boulala and Shane Cross were intoxicated at the time.

When the skateboarding community originally found out about the accident there was a rush of support for Ali who was in a coma for weeks. Shane Cross died before making it to the hospital. This is an example of the many reports which came out directly after the accident. all of them bore these words "Shane Cross's parents have also decided to not press charges, they just want Ali to live life normally."

Then after he began to recover reports such as this began to surface. To quote another famous blogger, "a little bird told me," that after the accident Ali Boulala was alive but devastated by the loss of his friend. He was extremely depressed and morose without much will to do anything...

This is where I left the saga of Ali Boulala until yesterday when I googled his name to find out what had become of him. I found that he had been sentenced to four years in jail with a two year mandatory non-parole period. I was interested to find out more about this. If Shane Cross's parents had agreed not to press charges, and Ali was living a life of guilt which might potentially lead to a more positive impact/cautionary tale for younger generations of skateboards, then why was he being sentenced to jail. All other sources cite this article by Australian news source, The Daily Reporter. It makes sense that Ali Boulala would be tried in Australia as Shane Cross is a native and the event took place there. What doesn't make sense to me is the following excerpt of the Judges remarks to him.

"The pro-skater suffered a severe brain injury in the accident and has not been able to return to skateboarding or motorbike riding.

Judge Pullen said the crash was a tragedy.

Before the crash, Cross was overheard twice telling Boulala he wanted to go for a ride on the motorbike. Boulala wouldn't let Cross go because he didn't have a helmet, Judge Pullen said.

"You were therefore aware of the potential ramifications," Judge Pullen said.

"You threw caution to the wind at a later stage on this evening."

Judge Pullen said Cross had his whole life to look forward to and his family had suffered enormously as a result of Boulala's conduct.

Cross was regarded as one of Australia's most talented skateboarders. It is understood he had signed to star in a video game.

Judge Pullen said Boulala's injuries would provide ongoing punishment for him.

Boulala spent more than three months in hospital and suffered post-traumatic amnesia for 65 days. By the time he was discharged from hospital he was able to walk 200m without a walking aid.

He was likely to be permanent [shame on them for misusing an adjective] affected by the injuries he sustained, Judge Pullen said. There was a question mark over whether he would ever be able to get on a skateboard again, she said.

Judge Pullen said Boulala had a reduced range of movement, strength and co-ordination and suffered spasticity in his lower right leg. He still has trouble putting on his shoes and getting out of the shower.

Boulala, 29, has been living in Richmond with his Australian girlfriend since he was released from hospital."

The rest is bungled attempts to give context to Ali Boulala and misuse of skateboard terminology.

This was the part that made me wonder. Who pressed charges? and where if any would the responsibility of Shane Cross come into consideration? The second question is especially relevant considering the article seems to suggest that it was at Shane's suggestion they ride the motorcycle in the first place.

I was also taken aback by the seemingly harsh nature of the judges oration. Shane Cross was a similar skateboarder to Ali Boulala and while he was a "rising star," an arguable "role model," etc. It should not be over looked that he was just as involved in the mentality of recklessness which Ali Boulala was also a part of.

This has lead me to some serious thought about the nature and consequences of this kind of lifestyle. I've always been interested in "rebel" outsider personalities, but it seems that some of my most interesting role models growing up are meeting sad ends. Hunter S. Thompson is another example.

Most of the skaters I've mentioned in this post have a tragic story with similar themes of substance abuse. One of the sader cases to me is Knox Godoy, a fellow Baker team member.


Warning may contain subjectively objectionable material

In this video part from Baker 2g released in 2000 he must be somewhere around 8, but that is only a guess. Since this video he was kicked off the Baker team and seems to have lost any potential he did have of making money while skateboarding. In a real "where are they know" moment, I found this little gem


Warning probably contains subjectively objectionable material

It's sad to me to see that these people with so much potential, creativity, and passion for life can't seem to keep it together long enough to enjoy what they have. Conversely maybe it is the enjoying what they have too much which perpetuates the cycle they are in.

The most recent Baker video was titled "Baker Has a Death Wish." The more these events unfold the more the title seems to fit.


Warning some subjectively objectionable content.

We're From Barcelona

Groningen, Netherlands.


I hear this jam at a minimum of five times when I go out to the clubs and bars in Groningen. I was thinking that maybe if you played the song then looked at the pictures you'd get an idea of Groningen.



This girls was at the club with a broken arm and I found inspiration in that.

Where to begin.

It’s been quite awhile since my last post, and it feels like it has been two months since my last post.

On the first Friday of every month the police sell the bicycles which they collect and fix after they’ve been left in the streets. My friend Emilio and I planned to go early to ensure that we would get the best selection of bicycles. The line forms before 7:30 at which time they hand out tickets. At 8:30 you can come back with your ticket to buy bicycles. Emilio and I arrived at 6:40 and the line already had fifty people waiting. When the ticket person came to distribute tickets the line was around the corner and probably had 300 or more people all eagerly awaiting the opportunity to buy bicycles. As they had 41 bicycles to sell, and including the massive cutting which took place in front of us, we were numbers 75 and 76 in line. It was pointless to wait so we walked back to the student house. A mass influx of university students in the past two weeks explains the flood of students desiring cheap bicycles and thus the absurd line.

Later that day while in class I talked to my friend Jurjen (this is pronounced something like gullian) and he told me about a Polish guy who sold bikes which he made. While in the fish market looking at overpriced bikes for sale Jurjen finished his phone call and informed me that the Polish guy had a bike to sell me.

The next day I awoke to the sound of heavy rain and bemoaned the fact that I had a thirty minute walk across town to the Polish guy’s house where I was to meet Jurjen. Upon arriving I noticed no Jurjen and thought that I had missed him, I walked back through the market (mind you it was still raining the whole time) and upon returning to my room began hanging up my wet clothes on makeshift clotheslines and screws in the wall. An hour passed then Jurjen bursts through my door and asks where I was earlier. I told him, and he then told me that I had missed by a few minutes as he had arrived ten minutes late. “why didn’t you just wait inside? You knew the address”
Something about waiting in the home of a man I didn’t know who makes bicycles which he sells didn’t seem safe to me. So back on went my wet clothes as Jurjen and I ventured into the rain back to the Polish man’s home. The Polish man was extremely nice and gave me a one month guarantee on his craftsmanship. I thanked him then Jurjen and I began to cycle around the city.

On Monday I had my first lecture for another course, though for the rest of the semester I will only meet with the class on Fridays. Monday and Tuesday were unseasonably warm and I wanted to enjoy the good weather. I had heard talk of a lake just south of the city and a beach. As I was looking this up online I found out that the name of the lake was Hoornse Meer. Then I found out that cycling maps of the country could be purchased at the visitor’s center which closed in ten minutes. I left the library and raced across the city center just in time to purchase a bike route map, and to get directions to the lake. The lake is a ten to fifteen minute ride south of the city. Keeping with the Dutch tolerance and liberal mindedness that has constantly proved itself to be characteristic of this city the lake had a nude section on the southern edge. As I have never been to a nude beach nor a nude lake I was immediately interested. Not out of a sense of voyeurism but out of a healthy curiosity of humans in a weird sort of reversion to animalism. I went for a short swim and then cycled home. While there I noticed hot air balloons, a theme that has repeated itself once and I hope continues to do so in the coming weeks.

After consulting my cycling map I found that you could ride your bike to the coast then take a ferry to an island just north where there was a beach. The idea of swimming in the north sea after arriving there under the power of my own two legs was irresistible to me. However, the reality of the situation is that it is a forty kilometer cycle (one way) and my bike, while good for riding around town and dependable, is not ideal for distance riding. I woke too late on Tuesday to even attempt the ride. After a few moments indecision I decided the next best thing would be to work up my length strength and ride halfway. My destination was the town of, Oldehoove. I packed some food, and set off. Once outside of the city the countryside is dominated primarily by farmers of sheep and cow. This didn’t, however, change the beauty of the countryside. I had a very pleasurable afternoon riding to Oldehove, eating my lunch/dinner, and seeing hot air balloons again as I traveled back to the lake (clothed side this time) and taking a dip before returning to the student house. All told I probably cycled between 55 and 60 kilometers yesterday.

Yesterday evening I had a chance to see this, red heroin, the devil music ensemble are a group of musicians that play live music for old silent films and are based out of Boston.

I just finished the first of a weekly lecture series about the dutch. The lecturer from this evening is planning a bike trip to a transient camp from the Holocaust, called westerbork. round trip from Groningen will be 90 km. This is the same camp where Anne Frank stayed shortly after being deported from Amsterdam. The trip seems interesting to me.

Groningen is a nice place to spend time and also seems to have an endless amount to do for the ones willing to put in a little leg work and research.

My sleep clock is still not adjusted, and staying awake all night with new friends is making the correction much harder.

I woke up today in the afternoon and went to the kitchen I've been assigned to in the student house, Winschoterdiep. I share this kitchen with roughly thirty others, but this does not include the friends of friends and students who don't like the kitchen that they were assigned to. I've been eating yogurt for the past few days which is odd. My relationship with yogurt I think was originally that of enjoyment, then candy yogurt (e.g. trix yogurt, gogurt), then thinking that eating living bacteria was gross, to finally finding out that probiotics are a helpful and important part of my health. To the point, I like yogurt and the yogurt here is good.

Sharing a kitchen is a new experince for me, but everyone here is very nice and most seem to want to meet new people as much as I do. Everyone speaks english, but most as a second language. This makes conversation somewhat onesided on my part. I'm picking up a little dutch, but I wish that I knew three languages like most of my fellow students. So far French, German, Dutch, and English seem like the most common languages spoken. English ends up being the common tongue between someone from say Nigeria and France, but to me their conversation seems also strained and slightly forced. Ideally I'll learn Dutch similarly well as spanish and I can begin reading the paper and having small conversations with people.

There is an arthouse cinema (images) ten minutes away, which is exciting to me, I've never lived somewhere they had a cinema that could focus on a director like cassavetes for a whole month and still make profit. I look forward to meeting other cinephiles from around the world.
I also live ten minutes away from the football stadium (note: I'm going to call soccer football, and use twenty four hour time) today was some sort of meet and greet with groningen's football team and the place was packed with people.

I went to a neighboorhood gorcery two days ago, but found that the place to shop for cheap was jumbo. Jumbo is in the same complex as the stadium and a movie theater. I bought gorceries for cheap as a mob moved into the store with me. I've never seen fifty people all waiting to rush into a store, that was funny and fun.

I have some un-edited photos to post.

carrots are bigger in the Netherlands

This is what the street looked like on the walk home with my new friends, David and Wilhelm

PHD student Giuseppe, and Wilhelm

This is the Canal that I live on, Winschoterdiep.

Two evenings ago, friday night, I was walking to see some cheap music of local bands at a festival in the park that takes place at the end of every summer. It started to rain so I stopped into a pub, to wait it out. After taking a few notes and drinking a little, Giuseppe approached me and we began to talk over drinks. He's a Phd student in Physics from Milan who is given a large sum in Euro every month to simply do his studies here. He began to teach me some basic dutch words and vowels as well as introduce me around. Wilhelm showed up and began to drink with us as well. He lived on a broccoli and tulip farm in the country but has been in Groningen for six years because he didn't like to farm. Wilhelm and I got to talking and he told me that he has his own film production company in Groningen. Wilhelm and I then went and he took me on a "local" pub crawl. I meet more people through Wilhelm than I've ever introduced to someone in one city, everyone seemed to know him. It was a lot of fun, but not the type of lifestyle I'm used to, can afford, nor think I can get used to. At the end of our conversations both Wilhelm and Giuseppe gave me thier information and told me to contact them if I needed anything.

I like the spontenaiety of my life here so far.

I start classes tomorrow.
Good night to everyone in the states.

I've got time tonight so figured I would write something longer than probably will be normal once school starts.


I woke up around one or two in the morning Charlotte time. After a few hours of sleep I found myself wide awake. I started reading, Lord of The Flies, until we landed around 6:40 this morning Groningen time. I went through a sort of customs and purchased a ticket to Groningen. After I figured out a map and schedule, something that has eluded me before, I toke the 7:49 am train with a transfer at Amersfoort station. Then I got a taxi from the station to the student houses. I checked in to a rather dilapidated building which remind me oddly of a college dorm, go figure. I love this building though, it has nooks and crannies to explore. I share a fridge with three other students and two students a week are on kitchen patrol. Cooking utensils are communal. There is a large garden in the center of our building which is in the shape of the outline of a square with bold lines. I knew that to fully recover from jet-lag they say to stay awake, but I was so tired and hungry I didn't care. I made my bed with the linens I rented and fell asleep. I woke up and at first thought that I must have slept all night, I was wrong and am now very glad of it. I got an Ethernet cable and a plug converter from Saturn (extremely similar to best buy) and found a shortcut back to the dorm...cough...cough...student house. When I returned I couldn't comprehend why my room had seven power outlets and 18 sockets for the internet. I assumed that at some point my room, which is the size of a typical college suite room, and with higher ceilings, had housed many students and the extra outlets were necessary. I couldn't understand why my computer was telling me that a network cable was unplugged. I left in search of food and made a few laps in the city center, which we lie just across the canal from. I walked passed a cafe on a two lane brick road with mostly bike traffic, and noticed plates of food that looked amazing to me. I asked the owner if she would make me a salad. She told me about a small salad then she told me she could make me a larger one. I motioned for the larger and then we agreed on a price. She then asked if I was a vegetarian which I said I was. The owner was a very kind woman and made me a sumptuous plate of greens, tomatoes, blueberries, strawberries, sesame seeds, and a slice of honey dew to top it off. It also came with two pieces of baguette and I got a glass of local, and heavier brew which was nice to sip while I waited for my food. Sitting on the street with my salad and observing the passing people on bicycles along with the cat that watched the same thing across the street from a window above, was very enjoyable. my meal and drink were just what I needed. It made me happy to see friends and couples riding side saddle on the backs of bicycles. I payed me bill and drank in the atmosphere,until the churchbells chimed eight. Incidentally I've had no way of keeping time except for my computer which hasn't been connected to the internet since I left Charlotte and is also locked to my desk. I also have had no conception of the city. Tomorrow I plan to get a map of the city along with train system, and bike system. Some radical cartographers would insist that to know a city freely without the power structures inherent in a map you could use a map of another city. I wish I had the time to explore the city that way, but tomorrow I have to find a place with bikes, and go to see my professors along with other faculty in charge of international students. As I walked back worrying about the setting sun, I realized that the pace here in this city is slow and everyone here is either a student or a clam citizen. Considering this fact, "With a population of 185,000, it is by far the largest city in the north of the Netherlands. Groningen is a university city, inhabited on average by about 50,000 students." (thanks wiki) At dinner tonight the city appeared to have a young face being watched by the many locals. The mood here is mellow. I came back to my room and after consulting my Student Manager was shown that I was attempting to connect to many of the now dead sockets in an old office building for an internet company. When I tried the one labeled internet it worked much better, this set back made me much smarter about potentially difficult network problems, however, I could have simply read the labels.