Why do we kiss?

The most obvious answer to this question would be: because we want to. But that’s not the answer I’m looking for, if only for the simple fact that I do not wish to get into a debate on free will right now. What I’m wondering about is: what’s the purpose of kissing? And, to clarify even further: I mean romantic kissing. First time I wondered about this was about a quarter of a century ago, which may have been a sign that my personality is more that of theorist than that of practitioner. I saw a typical B movie on television about an american explorer in a jungle somewhere who fell in love with and kissed an indigenous girl. She responded by saying something like:”Our lips were given to us to feed, why did you use yours to touch mine?” Good question miss!

Kissing and Freud
The most familiar possible explanation for kissing comes from Sigmund Freud. For Freud, kissing was a subconscious return to suckling at the mother’s breast. Take that for romance. I guess that, to many, that explanation seems plausible. However, If kissing is just substitute for suckling a breast, why do we not just suckle each others breast to show our loving appreciation of one another?

Kissing and culture
We may not even realize this, but kissing is not a universal thing for us humans. Not all human cultures do it. The most familiar example of this is probably the Eskimo nose-rub. But across the world there are (or perhaps I should write: were) many cultures that did not kiss untill it was introduced by Western, European, adventurers. African and Asian peoples found the activity disgusting. Swapping saliva? Yuck!

Kissing and biology
But perhaps that swapping of saliva is actually the point. There are other species on our planet that engage in kiss-like behaviour, but -perhaps with the exception of Bonobo apes- this is mostly a bit of nuzzling or giving each other a peck on the cheek. Perhaps the jungle girl sets us on the right track by stating that we have lips (mouths) to feed. Several animal species, birds and insects, bring their potential mate food (often pre-chewed) as a way of courtship. But this behaviour is found mainly in males, not females.

Kissing and genetics
Back to the saliva swapping. Our saliva is full of chemical that provide all sorts of information about our genetic make-up. And studies have shown that when choosing a mate, us humans tend to select someone who has complementary immune-system genes (MHC genes) to ours. This makes sense, since your offspring would have the benefit of a much wider defense against, for example, disease. If you have ever read about these MHC genes you might also know that these genes also largely influence your smell. So why not just sniff each other out like the Eskimos (or Maoris)?

What’s important to know, is that the nose-rub is not a gentle touch of the tips of noses. Eskimos move in real close and personal until their noses are next to each other and then breath in deeply. What they actually do is breathe in each other’s smell. The nose rub does appear to have the same purpose as a kiss, but the way to do it correctly is not more efficient. You need to get in close and invest a little time. And isn’t that what romance is about anyway?

One thumb blogging

My most active blogging period must have been around when my first son was about three months old. This was also a time when I had a booming agricultural e-business on Farmville. How come? Well, babies tend to sleep large portions of the day. Not long enough for serious painting or writing but perfect for blogging and Fotoflexing pictures to go with those posts, if you have a laptop on standby.

Toddler proof laptop
Three months ago, my second son was born. So now we have a baby and a toddler in our
house. We feel blessed. Our laptop however is less happy. It lies unused on a shelve where our oldest son can’t reach. He likes laptops like he likes everything that has a screen and keyboard. It’s the 21st century after all. However, our laptop is not toddler proof. Hence the shelve.

The left thumb

One semi-free hand
So now when both our boys are sleeping I no longer wake a gadget with keyboard from its slumber. I reach for my smart phone. Right now our baby is cozily dozing off in my arms while I’m walking around the living room. That means I only have one semi-free hand. Just enough for a bit of left-thumb-only blogging.

Hope you enjoyed it.
Really.

The truth about reality

Us grown-ups have a pretty messed up relationship with reality. Even though we’re not really sure what it is, we’re all pretty certain it is something which is required in just about every aspect of life. Things must be ‘real’ or ‘true’ to have any sort of value. In the instances where reality is not a requirement it is still a huge asset. A lot of really, really crappy movies have been made in spite of everyone acknowledging that crappiness at a first glance upon the script. But, well, the story really happened. We can market that. On the other hand, when you’ve sold something as ‘real’ and this turns out to be a little bit beside the truth…

What else?
Say you’re at a party and you’re telling a story about how that very morning when you walked in a Starbucks to get a coffee and notice the person waiting in line in front of you is no other than George Clooney. Not a look-a-like, but actually George Clooney. So you jokingly told him that Starbucks didn’t do Nespresso and he laudghed and bought you a tall Machiatto. Really. True story. Chances are you will be the center of attention as long as you’re able to tell a story. And many will have all sorts of questions like “how tall was he?” “what did he roder for himself?”"Did you get his autograph?”. Everything you have to say about your rendez vous with Hollywood stardom will be interesting. Right up to the moment where you say: “Naaaaahhhh…. didn’t actually happen. Could’ve happened though. And wasn’t it a good story?”

It probably was, but no one will thank you for it. Everyone will feel cheated. It wasn’t the story which was important, it was the fact that it really happened. Really.

I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus
Children approach reality differently. For kids something can be both real and not real at the same time (like Santa Claus). And I do not mean that they can look at reality in a teenage-philisophical manner, I mean that more realities can exist simultaneously. Really exist. For children, the moon can be both millions of miles away and at a walking distance. But we’re the adults and we are bigger than they are. So we tell them that we understand these things better and they will grow out of this phase where they believe these bizarre things. Simultaneous truths? Ha, preposterous! Through the years we have understood that children don’t like much of our food, not because they are ‘difficult’ or because they have to get used to our complex flavours, it’s because they taste more than we do. Their eyes are better, so are their ears. It seems all your sense dull as we age. Maybe the same goes for our sense of reality?

Don’t think of a green frog
But maybe it helps is you try to stay a kid. Deep inside. Just think of Kermit. Is Kermit real? Or is he just a moving heap of green felt that does whatever the puppeteer wants it to? most people who have ever had a conversation with Kermit say that they quickly forget about the puppeteers. They talk to the frog. The same way they talked to him when Jim Henson was still alive. The same way they talked to him whan Brian Henson was still his voice. Kermit is real. He is just in a different realm of reality than where we, adults, feel comfortable.

So the next time your child tells you an amazing, unbelievable, larger than life story. don’;t get annoyed and tell him/her not to lie (It’s not like you never lie…). Just because your child is still able to live several truths at the same time while you have lost that ability is no reason to get angry with your kid. And as long as it’s an amazing, unbelievable, larger than live story, it’s probably also a great story. So who cares about the thruth anyway?

Strong opinions towards the truth…

Evil

Are babyboomers evil?
How many dogs may be killed for one human life?
Is feeding your snake live kittens something a babyboomer would do?

Anyone hurts my kids, they’re dead.

How many of your friends are bankers?
I’m doing fine, but we’re in a heap of trouble.
Do you still trust Barack Obama?

Is an African life as valuable as an American life?
(Not talking elephants here)
We, as a society, seem to have forgotten,
Ehm…

How many American dogs may be killed to save one African life?
All CEO’s who were responsible for the financial crisis of 2008 were babyboomers.
Dogs.

It’s not religion I fear,
But believers terrify me.

Anyone hurts my kids, they’re dead.

What death is like…

What death is like

Death is easily defined,
by defining what it is not,

life.

And life is only that which we can remember.
(Living memory)
So, life is like october 21st, 1984.

At least, for most of us it is.
You were probably around,
-We have done our market research-
Yet you will not remember anything about that day,
It’s like that you is dead.

Gone,

Yet here you are,
A different you,
but the same.

That is what death is like.

She thought to herself while carving a K

It already spelled F-U-C on the park bench,
Sure, geniuses may be totally unhappy, but at least they’re special,
she thought to herself while carving a K.

Thousands of kids her age were starving to death all over the world,
but at least the media care. NGO’s care. Fucking Bill Gates cares.
But her?
Who cared about her?

Like she wasn’t dying? Like she wasn’t starving to death?
“But we have mahjong.”
A brief smile.

If you’re not an alcoholic or on drugs, if you’re not a victim of a sex crime or discrimination,
If your parents can still pay their bills, if you’re not sick, cancer-like,
If you’re not a fascist or some other kind of rock star,
If you don’t have suicidal tendencies, or mail nude pics of yourself to strangers,
scary eastern European types especially,
no one cares.

“Except maybe Bill Murray and Douglas Coupland” I tried.

But they’re for old people.

K’s finished.
And these are, perhaps, the best years of your life.

Bye bye Steve

I am not a Mac user.  I have used PC’s my entire digital life, except for a one year period when my employer at that time provided me with a Macbook. Was it easier to use than my Windows OS machine?
No it was not.
Did I notice any more reliability or speed?
No I did not.
… and neither did you*.

I received an iPod Shuffle once as a subscription gift. A really cool gadget. But ever since I own a smart phone I have never used it anymore. My current smart phone is a HTC Desire HD, that runs on Android. I have seen several iPhone owners drool over it. It has better connection, a better and larger screen… and it communicates perfectly with the Windows machines at work and at home. My elderly colleagues at work all have iPhones. Needless to say; they all have problems with them.

Since I am basically ‘Macless’, I will not buy an iPad.In time I will probably just buy a tablet that runs on a Microsoft or Android OS. They’ll be cheaper. And I won’t notice any difference in speed, reliability or ease -of -use. and neither will you.

My point is; it’s kind of depressing to see how so many Apple fans and even serious tech-writers define Steve Jobs by what he was not; he was the not-Bill Gates. I even saw someone on television seriously voice regret that it was Steve who died instead of Bill. Not only is that sick, it is also an insult to a man who was of such a great influence to modern day technology. Steve Jobs was a great visionary in his own right, regardless of who he was not.

You can read a great tribute to Steve Jobs on Wired.com.

*I’ll admit that some people might notice a difference in performance between the two systems. Of those, some might prefer Apple, others might prefer Windows. Or Linux. Whatever. 99% of all users don’t notice. Statistically: none of you do.

Message from the Action Man

Hundreds and hundreds of little, balding men in dark blue suits. Cheap suits. So much is clear, even to the unexperienced eye. They’re tailored in such a way that they make  even the most anatomically enviable among men look like grey, flabby goo. It’s not just that the suits are not the right size or the right color. It’s the very fabric of them.
I think it is important to stress that none of the men are actually bald. They’re balding.

The small square is overcrowded with them. At eye height all you see is human skin in a sickening shade of grey. Like all the men are slowly morphing into the pavement.

In each corner of the square stands a tree. A young tree, planted no more the half a decade ago. Four fluffy balloons of branch and leave hover above a large pulsating blob of blue confection and grey flesh.

The men are slowly shaking their heads while humming constantly. No one seems to be stopping to breathe. Even though they are packed together, barely leaving  room for the fake-leather briefcases in between them, the do not seem to notice one another. They just stand there, shaking, humming, balding.

There’s not a clue about where these men came from. Or what it is they are waiting for. Are they waiting?
They never arrived. You blinked and they were there. It instantly feels like they were always there.

From the point where you are sitting there is a small breeze. Bringing in just enough fresh air for you to breathe comfortably. The wind also carries the sound of an old Bowie song.

“They got a message from the action man:
I’m happy, hope you’re happy too…”

… to be continued, unfortunately…

Michelle Bachmann for president. Yes, she should.

At a Florida rally, Michelle Bachmann (who is in the race to become the presidential candidate for the republicans) said that the hurricane Irene was a reminder of God. God wished to remind the American people about their national debt.

Later, when she had sobered up probably, she announced that her comment was meant to be taken in jest. It was a joke. Humor. Haha.

As a European I may perhaps not understand the subtleties of American humor, but I fail to see how commenting that God killed 46 people and left thousands without a home, millions without fresh water and electricity to make a point about the greed of bankers and investors is funny.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a problem with a bit of good blasphemy, but abusing the name of comedy like that? Unforgiveable Michelle.

That being said, I hope you get to run for presidency. Politiciand aren’t supposed to be funny. Nor sober.

Gold? Nah…

I don’t like gold. Not the colour, not the feel of it, not what it represents, none of it. Gold? No thanks.

An increasing amount of people seem to disagree with me. A lot of people with a desire to be ‘creative’ with their money are backing away from currencies like the US dollar in favor of buying gold. Not that there’s anything they’d like to do with the stuff. They buy it because it is a ‘safe’ investment. In other words, you’ll be able to sell it for more money than you have bought it for. Gold will increase in terms of value, that much seems to be sure. Why that is the case, I don’t think anyone really  knows.

Nutritional value

Bon appetit

There’s not much you can do with gold. It has very low nutritional value. You can’t build with it. It is impossible to watch Big Bang Theory on a screen made of gold. It’s hideous to look at. There’s just two think gold is good for. You can give it as a present to The Saviour, when he’s reborn on our planet. Or you can make medals out of it. These medals you can present to people who move their bodies about virtuously when they’ve done this at the highest possible level during a competition. These medals will then remain on a shelf, gaining economical worth.

Economical sense
Since the world population is growing at a greater relative pace to the extra amount of  gold which is found daily the stuff is getting more expensive. That seems to make economic sense. At the same time; the stuff should be worthless. And if something which has no worth at all becomes one hundred times as expensive, it will still have no worth.

Free lunch.
If you have enough money today, you can buy so much gold, that for the rest of your life you can live off the value-increase of the stuff you have bought without ever doing anything again. I’d say any system that works like that is seriously flawed. I once wrote a blog about investors and share-holders and came to the same conclusion there to which I am coming now: For everyone  making money without doing anything, there is someone working who is not getting paid for it. There is no such thing as a free lunch.