If you can read this, then the time machine worked. Also, it’s really me. I mean you. On your first summer holiday, you found that knife with the shiny red handle and there was nobody around to see you take it, but you put it back anyway. See? It’s really me. That is, you, but twenty years older. So listen.

First and foremost, stop worrying so much about all that petty crap. Everything works out fine in the end. Laugh some more, relax, live a little. Your good friends will remain your friends twenty years down the line. The assholes will be virtually forgotten by the time you get to college. So there.

Also, the cute little blonde girl that you fell in love with in 9th grade? Just have the guts to tell her outright – the sooner, the better. Sticking around like a love-sick puppy never solves anything. You’ll end up telling her anyway – right before you leave for college – and she’ll laugh it off and you’ll stay friends. The only thing unrequited love is good for is poetry. And your high-school poetry sucks.

Let your hair grow just like you always wanted. There’ll come a time when sadly that won’t be an option any more.

Go see your grandparents while they’re still around. They love you and your sister more than anything else in the world. You’ll be out of the country soon, and you don’t get to visit much. No, I’m not telling you where you end up. Spoilers, you know.

Spend more time with dad. He’s not going to be around for much longer. Get him to quit smoking, if you can. Also, stop talking and start listening every once in a while. Not everything is a contest of wills, and you don’t need to get your way every damn time. Might even be better in the long run if you don’t.

Be fair with others and treat them with respect, even when it’s so tempting to do otherwise. Don’t forget that people that love you get hurt the most. And when that time comes when you have no idea where you’re going (I promise you, you’ll know), just figure it out by yourself. Don’t take other people along for the ride. They only get hurt in the end.

Did you know that the metabolism slows down in your twenties? Neither did I. Now you have no excuse to stop exercising. Get a bike. Trust me, it pays off.

Hope this little letter won’t change our lives so much that the created paradox blows me out of existence. Or ends the universe as we know it. I tried to keep it as spoiler-free as possible; I’m only telling you things that you’re going to figure out by yourself later anyway. Well, duh. Have a nice life, mate. See you in twenty years.

* * *

Oh, what the hell. BUY GOOGLE!

Hey, I didn’t say “fastest”, ok? But given a choice between him and a testosterone-pumped executive zig-zagging through traffic in his shiny new Beemer, which of them would you rather have on the road with you?

This requires further study. I’m totally going to book it a place on my commute.

Imagine folosită cu permisiunea autorului.

De altfel m-aș fi simțit ciudat dacă n-aș fi mers. Nu sunt stelist, dar totuși nu mi se oferă în fiecare zi ocazia de a scanda pentru o echipă românească. Iar faptul că meciul e chiar aici, în Utrecht, la o aruncătură de autobuz de casă, mă convinge să mă duc. În definitiv, tata a fost stelist, îmi justific eu decizia, iar când a venit CFR-ul la Eindhoven m-am suit în mașină și-am mers, chit că cu ei chiar că n-aveam nici o treabă. Așa că m-am dus.

A fost un frig crâncen, da’ după câteva minute de la începerea meciului nu prea l-am mai simțit. Am sărit, am strigat, ne-am agitat. La câțiva metri în stânga mea e un nucleu de suporteri adevărați – dau tonul la scandări, sar, se bucură de fiecare dată când un jucător stelist atinge mingea… Au și motive – cam 2–3 litri de motive, aproximez eu. Unul din ei se plânge că nu i-au lăsat stewarzii să intre cu motivele în stadion.

Utrechtul a avut o bară. Apoi un șut scăpat de Tătărușanu și prins apoi înainte să treacă de linia porții. Urlăm cu toții “Luptă Steaua!” Dar Steaua joacă mai mult în lateral, fără să reușească să treacă decât sporadic de defensiva olandeză. Fundaș stânga e Neșu, fost stelist. “Trădătorule!” urlă unul la o intercepție a românului. Restul galeriei nu e de acord. “Luptă Steaua!” Olandezii tac și ne lasă să ne-auzim ecoul din peluza de vis-a-vis.

La pauză s-a mers la bufetul stadionului, unde toată lumea s-a înghesuit să ceară bere. Nu era bere. Era un ceai la 2 euro și un hamburger la 4. Ne-am mulțumit cu un ceai.

Repriza a doua a început la fel de anost ca și prima. Steaua a fragmentat jocul cât a putut, iar când a avut mingea nu prea a legat mare lucru. Poate le era frig. Păcat de galerie, care a făcut față cu brio unui stadion aproape plin de suporteri olandezi. Tănase se tăvălește pe gazon în huiduielile spectatorilor. Două minute mai târziu se ridică și aleargă înapoi în teren. N-are nimic. Prin minutul 60 și ceva olandezii au băgat mingea în plasă, dar golul s-a anulat (nemeritat, am aflat după) pe motiv de ofsaid. Nici asta nu i-a trezit pe steliști.

Abia după golul pe bune al Utrechtului, rezultat dintr-o gafă a lui Ricardo, s-a trezit și Steaua din corzi. Au intrat Răduț și Szekely și au mai animat jocul; dintr-o dată pasele au început să se lege, Tănase și-a adus aminte că știe să dribleze, Latolevici că știe să dea spre poartă. Până și Bănel a încercat un șut din afara careului, din păcate pe lângă.

Izbăvirea a venit dintr-o fază fixă. O centrare în careu și un fundaș olandez și-a împins singur mingea în poartă. Tot stadionul a tăcut. Galeria a scandat “Forza Steaua”. Apoi “M**e Dinamo”. Poate ca să le facă în ciudă dinamoviștilor ca mine, care au stat și-au răgușit cot la cot cu ei ca să le susțină echipa.

Spre sfârșit Tătărușanu și-a scăpat echipa de încă două goluri ca și făcute. Galeria scanda “România”. Steaua pleacă acasă cu un egal chinuit, dar cu speranța unei calificări in etremis, după egalul dintre Liverpool și Napoli. La sfârșit echipa a venit și și-a salutat galeria, care n-a uitat să strige numele lui Lăcătuș. Dar și pe al lui Neșu, fost stelist, azi impecabil în defensiva gazdelor. Amândoi au venit să ne salute.

La final am mai așteptat în frig jumătate de oră până au ieșit suporterii Utrechtului. Cineva de lângă mine spune că am avut noroc. Amicul lui arată în sus și rânjește. “E lună plină,” zice el pe post de explicație. E lună plină. Ne-au ieșit vrăjile și în seara asta.

The beautiful city of Nice, on the French Riviera, will soon start using its CCTV cameras to issue parking tickets (click on image for the story). That could prove to be a significant source of income for the city hall, especially considering that a lot of it could be automated with license plate recognition and data mining. In fact, the system has the potential to be so efficient that CCTV might soon become short for Cash Cow TeleVision.

The icing on the cake? This system was paid from local taxes. Much like London’s famous surveillance network, which managed to do almost nothing at all to deter crime – defeated, as it were, by that high-tech piece of clothing equipment popularly known as “the hoodie”. How long until Boris Johnson warms up to the idea of turning that public embarrassment into a sizable boost to its coffers? How soon will other cities follow suit? New parking meters in Holland already require that you enter your license plate number to buy parking time. It would be ridiculously easy to couple this data to a CCTV system and mail you a fine the minute your parking expires. I could probably do it in 500 lines of code or less.

Meanwhile, I predict that spray can sales will soon skyrocket in the sunny city of Nice. As well they should. No matter what is said about the French, they do have a talent for civil disobedience.

Terry Jones, age 58, further declared that “a burning of the Koran is to call attention that something is wrong”. Contacted for comment, his psychiatrist wholeheartedly agreed, mentioning that it is his hope that with care and therapy he will be able to correct what’s wrong with Mr. Jones.

In a move that is clearly designed to shock and anger Mr. Jones and his congregation, a large number of Muslims has decided to completely ignore the pastor and his fundamentalist plans. A small number of  Muslims from his home state of Florida intend, however, to organize a burning of their own, by setting fire to their cable news subscription. “Burning the Quran is an attack on our God, so we decided to respond in kind”, an anonymous participant declared. It is largely expected that Terry Jones will back down in the face of this latest threat.

Image used with permission.

Seen it? Welcome back. And welcome back to you too, words.

So. James Cameron. Some know him for his iconic “Terminator” or “Aliens”. Others for “Titanic”. I have seen most of his movies, starting with the underrated, but nevertheless excellent “Abyss”, and while all of them had shortcomings, they never let down on entertainment value. James Cameron is undoubtedly one of the greatest SF directors Hollywood has,  and when news came out that he is directing “Avatar”, we stood up and took notice. Especially since the man declared in an interview that he waited 14 years for technology to catch up with this world he created in his head, and now that it did, finally he was able to direct (again) the most expensive movie of all times. In the middle of a recession.

That’s the background. Back when I read that story, I promised myself that I would see this in cinema as it came out. I’m not a fan of movie launches in general, and his last block buster didn’t really float my boat — sort to speak — but a new SF by Cameron? I figured I owed him one. And yesterday, on a lark, I made up my mind. I’ll go see this in style. IMAX. 3D. Bucket’o’popcorn. The full moviegoer experience.

The nearest IMAX theatre from where I live is in Rotterdam, a small 40 minutes drive¹. Which turned into almost an hour and a half, courtesy of a traffic jam. So I got there 5 minutes after the show begun (thank you, cute ticket selling lady), booked one of the last available seats -  row 2, seat 3, that is, really front and really left — and sat down with no popcorn, no beverage and no idea what to expect. If anyone who sat near me reads this, sorry for the grumbling.

Then “Avatar” began. And little by little I found myself sucked into that awesome and magnificent world that Cameron has dreamed for us all.Everything else was forgotten — the seat, the neck strain, the mild 3D migraine. I just sat there and watched, nay, absorbed that world through my eyes for more than two hours and a half. We all sat there sharing in it, smiling like children with free access to the cookie jar. And when the credits rolled, we applauded. Because it was that good.

The story? Please. You may call it any way you want, “Pocahontas in space”, “Dances with smurfs”. I don’t care. You don’t need to see this for the story. Not even for WETA’s special effects, which are absolutely amazing, by the way. Just see it for the world Cameron imagined — a world which is a wonder to behold.

* * *

Walking out of that theatre I felt the same child-like happiness I experienced when I saw my very first cinema movie. I was six. That was “The Empire Strikes Back”. And my world was never going to be the same.

1. There are only two IMAX theatres in the Netherlands; the other one is in Amsterdam.

Votul “rolandez” nu e o surpriză majoră, având în vedere cum a votat diaspora în general; surpriza este că de data asta votul din străinătate a făcut diferența politică în țară. Așa cum banii pe care diaspora i-a trimis acasă în ultimii ani au ajutat la rândul lor economia României. Sper că și politicienii români, la rândul lor, vor lua act și se vor comporta în consecință.

Rezultatul votării pentru alegerea Preşedintelui României, 6 decembrie 2009, Olanda

Rezultatele votării pentru alegerea Preşedintelui României, 22 noiembrie 2009, Olanda

Sursa: Ambasada României în Olanda