RANCID CHEESE AND DEGENERATE PIMPS

As usual, the first thing I did during lunch was go to the Dutch newspapers on the internet.
That was a mistake, also as usual.

While we were celebrating our independence, the Dutch, not so blessed, were happily making sour remarks about America and Americans in their own language underneath articles and blogposts. Three days worth of rancid comments.

Apparently they don't like us for several reasons: we're white, we're Jewish, we're Nazis, we're dumb, and we're "American". That last is the most egregious.


The majority of the Dutch despise us, hate everything we stand for, support vicious terrorist groups like FARC, Hamas, Hezbollah, and will praise every despot or tyranny that opposes us.
The top levels of Dutch society realize that such loathsome attitudes would work against their profiteering, parasite-like, from our involvements, misadventures, and investment opportunities, and will consequently cultivate a placid veneer of cooperative attitudes and commonality. But the average factory worker, shop assistant, low-level bureaucrat, or Amsterdam drug-dealer? Not so.

As their internet texts make clear. If only you know Dutch, of course.



I LIKE THE DUTCH

Did I ever mention that I do indeed like the Dutch? I should - because normally I when I speak of them at all, I am casting back their bile in bucket loads.
I like the Dutch. Despite their venomous anti-Americanism, I like the Dutch. Despite their arrogance, sneering superiority, and virulent anti-Semitism, I like the Dutch.

No matter that they refuse to ever admit that they were wrong, cannot conceive of Americans as being anything other than inbred ignorant gun-toting syphilitic savages, or think that Jews are nothing more than perverse religious deviants who do not belong in the civilized world. Regardless their outright hatred of the third-worlders who have the temerity to live among them, their loathsome attitude towards the Turks and Moroccans who actually do the work that Dutchmen are too good and too picky to perform themselves, the crass treatment of asylum seekers who have neither the English nor Dutch linguistic capabilities to fight back, or the well-known Dutch penchant for brutal sexual exploitation of foreign females. I like the Dutch.
Even though the Netherlands is ground-zero for the trade in women-flesh, sexual slavery, bondage rapes, and bestiality, as well as a magnet for every drug-addled deviant this side of Pluto or Saturn, I like the Dutch.

Though not as much as the French, and by no means all of them.



ROTTEKAAS

I mention all this as a preamble to alerting you to one of the clickable tags on this blog: Rottekaas.
The term 'rottekaas' means rotten cheese. Kaaskoppen ('cheese heads') is the less-than-affectionate Flemish nickname for Dutchmen. Singular: kaaskop - a cheesehead.
The term Yankee was originally the English pronunciation of Jan Kaes - John Cheese. Because many of us colonials at that time were devolved Dutchmen.
Cheese is the dominant Dutch characteristic. Might have something to do with hygiene.

I invite you to click on Rottekaas. Doing so will pull up all my affectionate writings about the Dutch, and my abiding admiration for their subtlety and broad-mindedness.
I appreciate their point of view. Keenly and truly I do. And so will you.
Once you click on Rottekaas.

This post is a love letter. Today is Valentine's Day in July. Feel the fondness.