DON'T TELL ME ABOUT YOUR HOME PLANET

What keeps this blogger so tied to Netherlandish culture, language, and all-round Dutchness? Why is he so adamant about it, when logic would dictate that thirteen generations in the New World make him as American as apple pie? Or donuts? Is it something about the glory of being Dutch and sharing in all that beautiful history? Something comforting? Perhaps a profound sense of belonging? A combination of weltschmertz, existenzangst, identitätskrise, zweifelhaft, und gicht? A weltanschauung?

Nope.

I can cuss in Dutch.

Today one of my Facebookers wrote: "Just got a tetanus vaccine and shoot now I have autism."


Of course he meant it humorously -- he's on the autism spectrum anyhow, as are a great many people with insight and wit -- but just think about this for a moment. What kind of buggered-up world do we live in when the irony and sarcasm of that absurd statement is instantly understandable?
Where some folks think that vaccines cause autism.


Swearing fluently in Dutch allows me to express myself in a way that doesn't blister English-speaking paint when confronted with idiocy.

I work in Marin, so on a regular basis idiocy surrounds me.
Along with yoga, gluten phobia, and healing crystals.

An ability to express myself venomously with hairballs often serves me well. And not just because of someone searching for an aromatic pipe tobacco made with pure fruit essences.


I'm sorry, Hello Kitty smokes clean flakes or Latakia blends, NOT candied crap. She's also had all of her shots, and she never participates in native healing ceremonies. Drumming and chanting give her the willies.
And like all cats she wants to push things off the table.
So your healing crystals are toast.

I smile while calling someone a unclean scrote.
And wishing cholera upon him. Fervently.


"Just got a tetanus vaccine and now I have autism"


Dutch. It's what keeps me civilized.

Er zijn laesies op uw schaamdelen.




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