Sapere aude

Temperature: a bone-cracking cold came in from Siberia and parked over us, so we experienced winter as we haven’t experienced it in a while. It's gone now with warmer winds and rains coming in from the south. ‘Zat you, spring?

Eating: a simple and savory feijão.

Drinking: tea, Maracanã-sized kettles of it. (Yes, Maracanã can also be used as an adjective, e.g. a Maracanã-sized pizza is a big-ass pizza, as in big and ass-widening, if you’re unwilling to share. Then again, there are greater tragedies in this world than having a big butt.)

Listening: to Tucker Carlson “interview” Putin would have been hilarious if it weren’t another horrific example of the Russian propaganda machine in vigorous action. No one interviews Putin in any conventional meaning of the word; it’s a manuscript carefully curated by the government so that there are no surprises, nothing inconvenient or embarrassing. If Carlson’s aim was to get the so-called other side of the story, he succeeded, and the story is whatever the Kremlin says it is at any given moment, because the truth may change at any given moment, the truth being whatever the Kremlin says it is. (These people have a black belt in gaslighting and subterfuge.) Carlson got his doe-eyed “interview.” He should visit Ukraine next and see and hear for himself, and show to his followers, what happens when Russia sets its sights on something, and how going along or looking the other way hasn’t made the world a safer, more peaceful and stable place. Go along or look away, Russia latches on to every concession made and immediately or over time makes new demands, asks for more concessions to see where you draw the line, to see if there is one, is it movable, by force if necessary, and before you know it, your borders and your sovereignty and your national security are somehow their business; you find yourself under coercive control. Give an inch and they'll take a mile. Why? They acted with impunity in WWII, and they’ve acted with impunity ever since, because too many countries go along or look away. It’s all about maximizing power and reach, using violence if necessary, because who's gonna stop them? Unlike Germany, they've never come to terms with or been held accountable for war crimes committed in any theater of war in any decade, so why would they stop? Unable to change or evolve, they are at it again, forcing their will on others. If Ukraine (and Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and other once-occupied parts of the former Soviet Union) wanted to be a part of Russia, they would still be a part of Russia. They got out of Dodge the first chance they got. Given a choice, people tend to choose freedom over oppression.

[An American who still doesn’t get it? I know that looking from afar things don't always seem so very bad, but if you're not concerned, I'm afraid you don't understand how serious a situation this is. And seriously, the world doesn't expect you to pay for everything and police everything, but it is in your best interest to take an interest. As a European much closer to the thick of things, let me paint you a picture. Imagine (a nuclear weapon state) Mexico falling into the hands of a tyrant and this tyrant deciding they want Texas back. They had it at one point so it is actually still theirs and now they want it back. They start claiming America mistreats Mexican citizens so they have no choice but to intervene on their behalf. Without presenting tangible evidence, fabricating proof and spreading lies instead, they insist America is governed by fascists. There are neo-Nazis all over the place. In the name of regional peace and stability, Mexico has to act. Won’t give up Texas voluntarily? Okay then, you leave us no choice but to take it by force. You could have avoided all the death and destruction raining on you if you’d simply handed over Texas as asked, but no, you declined, so you brought this on yourself. You wouldn’t listen, now look what you made us do. Once they're in Texas, they start eyeing Alta California, and you're wondering where does it end, how dare they, what gives them the right. They will spout nonsense nonstop, and they will keep attacking you, unless you put a stop to it before it even begins. (Russia = Mexico and America = Ukraine in this analogy.) If you don’t think that’s absurd, if you believe Mexico has a legitimate claim, if in your world big trumps small every time and needs but a cock-and-bull excuse for its aggression, then go along, look the other way. Just don’t think you won’t pay the price one day, somewhere along the way. Enabling a criminal, undemocratic, ruthless regime, in any way, will come back to haunt you. And I know Biden v. Trump is the rematch no one wants, but a Trump presidency is a risk without reward to the free, rules-based world. Autocrats and dictators don’t care for rules and they sure as heck don’t care for freedom and free thinking, and you bet Putin’s bots, trolls and minions will be working overtime to ensure a Trump victory because there’s a man they’ll be able to steer by simply stroking his ego. And you really have to wonder and worry about Trump's adulation of Putin, a man who is the antithesis of freedom, justice and equality. America, you deserve better, and so do the rest of us. Sorry, but what you do still echoes in the world and right back at you despite how much you might prefer isolation and a hands-off approach. The Kremlin desperately wants you to choose Trump, isolation and a hands-off approach because in their books that gives them wiggle room. That's what it's all about.]

Watching: The Lazarus Project.

Reading: how 80 years ago, in February 1944, Stalin decided to make Finns suffer by bombing Helsinki to the ground. Thanks to Soviet ineptitude, and a tight ring of barrage fire, despite three attempts, they failed, but there are visible scars around the city if you know where to look. Finns haven't forgotten; how could they, and why would they, all things considered. Oh, you wanted a book! For a chilling, start-them-young look into the Putinjugend: Z Generation: Into the Heart of Russia’s Fascist Youth by Ian Garner.

Writing: all manner of things.

Thinking: Not a single word about Gaza? (Or Yemen, Sudan, Syria; whatever happened to the Rohingya, or the Uighur...) Not sure what to think? Books to the rescue once more: Étoile errante by J. M. G. Le Clézio, available in several languages. No, it won’t tell you what to think, but it will take you places, and you'll get there by walking in shoes other than your own. What do I think? This is overkill, pure and simple.

Feeling: all manner of things.

Don’t go yet

Temperature: dipping, it’s about to rain.

Eating: not a single brigadeiro or beijinho for a while, ufa.

Drinking: not a drop until…Saturday, when it’s party time all over again.

Listening: as those beautiful young people sang Je vole, and I tried to cry in dignified silence only to realize other mothers were attempting the same, so we just let rip for a bit.

Watching: another disaster unfold in Ukraine. Putin and his monstrous minions are an affront to humanity.

Reading: is food for thought, balm for the soul, good training for your concentration and powers of immersion.

Writing: more words I will be choking on when it’s time to deliver them, but I feel deeply and I let it show, deal with it.

Thinking: Are we really going to outsource thinking and decision-making to a machine? When even those in the know don’t know all the inner workings of these machines? Think we will always be able to outsmart them? Really? No, I’m no Luddite. On a branch of my family tree sit partisans and freedom fighters to remind me that I don’t have to just sit there and take it. Neither do you. Nothing in how technology is evolving is natural and inevitable. Decisions and choices are being made; by us, for us.

Feeling: So much to celebrate, so many changes happening this summer, my heart will surely burst. Oye, don’t go yet, don’t go yet…

🕊️

Enough said.

Love and peace are verbs

 ...doing words, actionable words. Not the naïve verbiage of the kumbaya-minded, as the cynical among us would dismissively have you believe, but a reckless attitude, a fearless determination to make the world a better place. Not simply the absence of war but justice, equality and non-discrimination; and not just for some but for everyone.

I can't believe what you say (for seeing what you do)

Bizarro has spoken, and totally in line with his usual smoke-and-mirrors MO, too; outlining goals and intentions in one speech, denying, deflecting and deriding in the next. Nazis got mentioned more times than your Bullshit Bingo card could possibly handle, there was no mention of peace, and the START treaty business, serious as it is, was almost anticlimactic.

If this man loved his citizens, he wouldn't oppress them and terrorize them as he does. If this man loved his country, he would cooperate on global matters and problems instead of sating his personal ambitions and interests. If this man loved his neighbors, Bucha, Irpin or Izium would not have happened and Mariupol would not lay in ruins. If this man loved life, he would not send his countrymen to their deaths, and he would not condone their cruelty and ruthlessness. If this man loved the world, he would concentrate on building and creating, not destruction and neglect. If Bizarro knew the lexical definition of the word integrity, he would never give another speech.

The never-ending story

It’s been a tough year, don’t you think? What do you mean it’s only January? My point exactly! It’s only January and this year has already met all my nonexistent expectations. What do you mean that makes no sense? What in this world makes sense anymore anyway?!

War, the cost of living crisis, climate crisis, food crisis, displacement due to war and the climate crisis and the food crisis. They are all connected; the time of peace dividends is over. And what of liberal democracy? Is liberal democracy on the way out? It is if you ask the likes of Putin, Xi, Erdogan, Orbán... But what is the alternative they offer? Authoritarianism. Submitting to the state and the man or party in charge. Freedom equals chaos in their vernacular so they take away your rights and they take away that freedom. The freedom to speak freely, freedom to dissent, freedom to demand something other than what the man or party offers.

Having said that, have you noticed how benevolence hasn’t lost to virulence and violence? Despite every vile thing that is going on; not in all the thousands upon thousands of years humans have inhabited this planet, living, loving, killing and oppressing one another? Ruthlessness or the right of the strongest still haven’t wiped out softer tendencies such as kindness and altruism. Little wonder, since only so-called strongmen value ruthlessness and privileges won through oppression and exploitation. Most of us see those tendencies for what they are: malevolence. Evil. Then again most of us tend to value benevolence over malevolence and kindness over ruthlessness. We long for goodness. We expect goodness. And we practice it.

What else is there? What else can you do? The alternative is hurtful and unhelpful, a ruse to pit us against one another. Hate makes you ruthless and it makes you cruel, so whenever you feel hate raise its ugly head please step back and take a deep breath. Don’t let baser instincts, your reptile brain, get the better of you. That’s emotion, a feeling, one you shouldn’t ride lightly.   

And furthermore, strongman is a misnomer. No one is more thin-skinned and afraid of criticism and opposition than a supposed strongman. Overcompensating oafs who take things personally and attack people instead of problems or who blame other people for problems they themselves have created and/or are responsible for solving, that’s what they are. Infallible to boot, like the Pope. So akin to…gods, then? Now there’s a dangerous and deranged belief. All-powerful they are not, not in a literal sense. Realizing an ambition without doing harm is something no authoritarian or totalitarian leader has ever achieved. Of course, not doing harm is not all that important to them. But it is for the rest of us. That means most of us.

Cooperation and mutual respect, that’s what has kept us afloat and that’s what keeps “strongmen” up at night. What if I can’t beat them into submission, bully them until they break down, back off and shut up? What they don’t understand is that all those soft tendencies do not equal weakness, quite the opposite. They are the hard core of humanity, something cultural evolution hasn’t managed to snuff out. It takes guts to be open and vulnerable. It takes dogged determination to face insurmountable odds. It takes a brave soul to go against someone who doesn’t care if you live or die, a system that wants to crush you. It takes courage to do what you dread.

My point? I’m sure I had one...sorry if I lost you along the way. Oh well, oh hell, it’s been a long and tough year. Shall we go enjoy the weekend, whatever counts as R & R in your books? Happy Saint Sebastian’s (or Dia de São Sebastião, the patron saint of Rio de Janeiro)!

Peace out.

Insieme

Temperature: a sunny but windy 15/59 degrees.

Eating: Just how much indignity and degradation are women supposed to stomach in this world?

Drinking: to Finland and Sweden joining NATO. Maybe we should toast Vladimir Putlerini as well, he did give us the shot in the arm by sending the Russian army to shoot, bomb, rape and pillage his neighbors. Everything changed on February 24, and that’s on him.

Listening: to something old, something new, something borrowed and something melancholy and blue…it’s the Eurovision Song Contest! Douze points to those singing in something other than English. No French this year? Dommage, but dix points to Breton being heard (a Celtic language, you know; France 3 Bretagne will provide commentary in Breton in the Grand Final on Saturday, which is awesome; and the Finnish Broadcasting Company YLE will provide Sámi-language commentary, which is brilliant).

Watching: the rise of Gilead, where functioning ovaries and a healthy uterus become property of the state; where if you have said ovaries and uterus, you will not possess bodily autonomy; where you will have the responsibilities of an adult but not the rights of one; where if you get pregnant, you will be forced to give birth; where the state owns your reproductive bits but owes you neither maternal care, paid maternity leave nor childcare; where you can’t get an abortion but neither do you get help and advice avoiding an unwanted pregnancy in the first place; where it’s back to sex for reproduction; where enjoying sex becomes impossible with having to fear an unintended and unwanted pregnancy no matter your contraception; where a child is a gift when planned but a punishment when not, punishment for having had sex for fun and pleasure, in which case you deserve said punishment in the form of a child to always remind you that you are here to breed, bitch, breed. You are a beast of burden. You are a slave. A thing. Property. And they say no one can take away your dignity, your inherent self-worth, but it sure as hell feels like there are people out there doing their level best to do just that. Dehumanize. Debase. Reduce us to an object.

Reading: that if we tolerate this, more will follow. And don’t you dare claim that’s alarmist, hysterical or paranoid talk and behavior because that would be patronizing BS and turns out the hysterical and paranoid alarmists have been right all along in their mistrustful and feverish sounding of alarms. Sharia laws by any other name are still state-sanctioned subjugation.

Writing: back and forth with friends and family, friends and family who all happen to possess ovaries and a uterus, which would categorize them as second-class citizens to be dominated and dictated to. The children growing up in these families will be treated according to what’s under their underwear: found testes, congratulations, you are free, autonomous; oh, ovaries, sorry, you are not. There are rights and then there are women’s rights, and those are negotiable and mutable, because apparently human rights don’t apply to the women and girls of this world. Can you imagine the uproar the proposal of a vasectomy for all boys would cause? That would guarantee a pregnancy- (but not STD-) free sex life, it could be reversed when you were ready and able to start a family, and it would cost a fraction of what now goes into everything having to do with contraception and maternal and child care. No? Too…invasive? You can’t regulate a human body like that? On that we agree, my friend. Mask and vaccine mandates were out of the question. Because self-determination! Bodily autonomy!! Abortion? Breed, bitches, breed.

Thinking: What do you think that does to someone’s self-worth? To how boys and young men view girls and young women? To how girls and young women see themselves? What does that teach? What kind of message does that convey? Is there not enough gender inequality as it is? Is life not difficult, demeaning, dangerous enough for women and girls as it is, on a global level, still? You want to go and add to that, after all the progress made? You want to give ammunition to the likes of Xi and Putin who love to highlight every deficiency in democracy? No, of course they offer no real alternative, but they do use every opportunity to point out that more democracy does not necessarily equal more freedom. So don’t ask for rights and don’t ask for freedom, it will only hurt. Do as you are told. Breed, bitches, breed.

Feeling: Still furious. Still determined. Still incredulous and heartbroken. Not your bitch, not your toy, you regressive, repressive hypocrites.

Para bellum

Temperature: 0/32 degrees. And. It’s. Snowing.

Eating: nuts and raisins.

Drinking: Do you know what is almost as good as Guaraná? Pepsi Max Mango. I need to add those to the emergency supply list. (See below. Yes, I’ll need those in an emergency. It’s either those two or bourbon and cachaça, and how well do you think you’d function all boozed up, hmm? If emergency turns to catastrophe, that’s when you’ll need the booze. I’m not going down without a fight or a breath I can use a flamethrower. Just kidding. Not really, no. You’ll be oh so sorry you even tried. Oh, honey, that is not a threat, that is a promise. What? No! I do still love everyone. Until you give me a reason not to.)

Listening: to Russian officials swiftly deny, deflect, defuse and all-around summarily dismiss any involvement in the Bucha massacre or any other war crimes for that matter. As if they had a script at hand, which they of course always have, with a dozen different explanations and substitute scenarios excluding the truth and their guilt. Obfuscation is the operative word.

Watching: Russian television is like watching a telecast in Bizarro World; up is down and square is round. Sitting down to watch Russian state media re: Ukraine is like stepping into a brainwashing machine where you will be subjected to a steady stream of carefully curated programming and be convinced that the west is evil, degenerate, and plotting Russian demise, shown Russian soldiers helping the downtrodden people of Donbas, presented with proof of Ukraine’s evil schemes, and reminded of why you need Putin. What you won’t be shown is the decimation of Mariupol, the bombing and shooting of Ukrainian civilians, Russian soldiers looting homes and hospitals, or how united and fierce the Ukrainians are in their fight against the invader. No use switching channels; the studio and talking head may change but the story, the soundtrack, the imagery stays the same, day in, year out. It’s a very powerful tool of mind control and manipulation. And it works.

Reading: The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows by John Koenig and The Languages of Scandinavia: Seven Sisters of the North by Ruth H. Sanders. You don’t have to be a glossophile to enjoy these books, you can just nibble here and there.

Writing: a list of what might be missing from our emergency supply kit. Both the government and emergency services have kindly reminded everyone of the importance of preparedness. This is a sensible nation of sensible people who trust the government and one another, so everyone agrees and acts accordingly.

Thinking: Hate is a verb, a wrongdoing word. Indifference is a verb, the undoing word.

Feeling: lucky we live in a sensible nation of sensible people.

A word after a word after a word is power*

It’s day 16 of the Russian invasion of Ukraine and all of Scandinavia is regrouping and reconsidering its stance on a neighbor gone cuckoo. Finland shares a 1,300+ -kilometer (800+ -mile) border with Russia, so naturally they’re perturbed. Sweden likes to think they’re Switzerland but now realizes they need to up their military game chop-chop. Joining NATO is once again on the table and since that is exactly what Voldemort Putin wants off the table and out the window you have to ask: how did you think this would go? And if starting Cold War 2 is all the same to you, again, how do you think this will go? Go ahead and hate us so long as you fear us, is that what you’re saying? Again, how do you think that will go in the long run? Putin doesn’t seem to care about how this will affect Russia and its citizens, so how do you solve a problem like Putin’s Russia?

What do you do when your neighbor starts disturbing the peace and engaging in disorderly conduct? You lay down the law, of course. But what if they don’t care about rules or regulations? What if they’re playing a totally different game on a totally different field or board? You need to defend and protect yourself, of course, and you need to isolate that bully of a landlord in question. How do you do that? You assign blame where blame is due. You separate the landlord from the tenants. When speaking of the invasion of and attack on Ukraine say Putin instead of Russia. Putin (and his cabinet) is the aggressor, not all of Russia since there was no referendum. Russians can’t even call the war a war or the assault an assault, using those words in this context is now a criminal offense. So, Putin’s war, Putin’s attack, Putin’s army, Putin’s doing. Demonizing and ostracizing all of Russia and all Russians, any type of Russophobia directed toward the people and the country at large only serves Putin’s narrative. "Look! It is as I keep saying, it is true, look at how they hate us!"

What Putin is doing in Ukraine and to Ukrainians is evil and monstrous and it has to stop. The sanctions imposed will hurt all of Russia but that is on him, on Putin. And change can only come from within. Putin is finished. Maybe not today or next week, but he is toast. If he manages to hang on to power, if the Iron Curtain falls, every Russian will be trapped in there with him. That would be yet another tragedy in the too long reign of Vladimir the Terrible. We should stand with Ukraine, no doubt or two ways about it. On that other field and board, we should stand with every Russian suffering under the yoke of an ever more brutal regime.

We are not powerless. You are not powerless. When you want to speak up, do as Scandinavians are trying to do and choose your words with care. Do not give Putin ammunition by engaging in Russophobia. Assign blame where blame is due. Countless Russians still root for Putin because they have been on a steady diet of lies and state propaganda for years, and the machinery is hard at work as we speak. You can help combat that too. Swedish Dagens Nyheter, Finnish Helsingin Sanomat and Danish Politiken are now translating news articles “to provide Russians with impartial and trustworthy news and coverage.” Feel free to spread the word. Putin controls state media but has no control over us or Russians living abroad. The longer the war drags on the more questions it will raise at home and the harder it will be for him to keep an airtight lid on what is going on.

It will get worse, so much worse before it gets better, on both boards. Scandinavians will always have Russia as a neighbor, there is no escaping that fact. But as much as Putin would like to rewrite history he will only be remembered not as the strong man he thinks he is but yet another heavy-handed totalitarian who could not rule without being cruel. One day there will be no more Putin, but there will always be our Russian neighbor. Believe me when I say to you that Scandinavians would really, truly, absolutely rather wave than shoot across that border.

*Margaret Atwood

What we talk about when we talk about war

My maternal grandfather rarely talked about the war. He was sent out soon after he had married my grandmother. They had just turned nineteen. The years many of us spend getting an education and having fun while at it he spent fighting WW2. He came back a decorated hero who never took out those medals and seldom talked about how he’d earned them. On the fiftieth anniversary of the end of World War II a local historian/documentarist wanted to interview him. Even fifty years was not time and distance enough. He declined. By then I could hear what he couldn’t voice; he had seen and experienced more than most of us could handle without losing our sanity.

Strategy, tactics and targets. Strikes, counterstrikes, combat. Invasion and occupation. Soldiers and civilians. Casualties and collateral damage. Valor, heroes, sacrifice. This is the clinical dialect of the language of violence. Devoid of human emotion and the atrocious cost of war. The euphemisms we use, talking in numbers and abstracts, creates the distance we need. It eases the conscience and helps silence objections. We have no choice. This is the price we have to pay.

That choice has consequences, and the price is brutal. Death, carnage, bodies, graves, amputations, disability, pain, fear, fury, terror, shock, trauma, retribution, grief, displacement, squalor. These words should climb to the top of the lexicon. They should fuel our resistance by highlighting the true meaning of war. These are the words I think of when I think of my grandfather’s experience. These are the words I think of when I think about the very real chance that my sons will one day have to go against the madman in Moscow. No mother wants to contemplate that. Not this one. Not a single one.

When all is said and done

 
Warning: verbal incontinence ahead.

Year-end review time! So how did you do, compared to how you expected to January 1, 2014? I started out all eleison, all merciful, not too hard on myself. And ended up, well...as the Mythbusters will tell you, failure is always an option. It wasn't a catastrophic failure, this year merely confirmed an observation: I'm an on-off person. When there's work to do, I'm all over it. When it's time to kick back, shoes and gadgets go flying into the depths and won't resurface until it's time to go back to work.

So. Maybe I should apologize for the radio silence here at the den but I won't. True to form, I've been working hard so I can enjoy some rest and relaxation over the holidays. Be with family, visit friends and take care of the new addition to the family, Chloe the cat. I know horses and hounds but I've never owned a cat. [I know. No one ever owns a cat, not really...] I've envied friends with cats and I've wanted one for the longest time, and now we have one, and not just because I wanted one but because the whole family did. She's a European shorthair and the sweetest, fiercest thing.

All in all, my life hasn't been very tale worthy. Work. Exercise. Family & friends time. Chores. Not always in that order but always some combination of the above. There's been some backstage drama worth a post or ten but that's personal and a business matter and nothing I can go into right here right now. It has certainly given me pause and another glimpse at the unsavory underbelly of a trade I've worked in for a long time in many capacities. So hardly a surprise, just another observation confirmed. People are the best, kind, loving and compassionate. People are the worst, cruel, selfish and unjust.

What else? I've been thinking about memory and identity and our lives, the only shot we have at doing everything we'll ever do, and I've been thinking about time, how it's become a luxury item [although I do believe that's an illusion, a creation after our own selves; there's still time, we're the wasteful ones and always in a hurry]. There are no winemakers in the family, only people who enjoy wine. Should you decide to become a vintner, from scratch, buy land and vines, it would take you a minimum of twelve years to see a grape worth squashing. The prerequisite of a quality wine is a quality vine, and those can take up to forty years to yield their best produce. Forty years. Still wonder why some wines cost a fortune? Someone somewhere waited half a lifetime for a vine to reach its full potential. Sometimes they wait by the vine in vain. Sometimes it comes to nothing. You can make bad wine from good grapes but not vice versa.

Take your time. Wait it out. See what happens. No time like the present. Carpe diem. Strike while the iron is hot. One of the biggest lies we tell ourselves is that we make decisions based on cool careful calculation, on knowledge, the intellect, dollars, pounds and euros, the bottom line. Maybe lie is too strong a word, the wrong word. Maybe it's not a lie but a blindness to how much private emotions and past experiences factor. We like to think of ourselves as sensible beings who can keep our sensibilities in check when the limbic brain, the reptile brain gives the first and fastest response in any situation and most of us never learn to override it. Most of us aren't even conscious of it's workings but everyone knows the physical reactions, the swell of emotion that so easily takes hold of you when something unexpected happens, good or bad. If you have time, you reason. If not, you react.

Some are all emotion and reaction all of the time. No one is reasonable and sensible in everything they do. Feelings factor and that's a fact, one dictators have shamelessly milked since the first undecided human decided s/he needed a determined leader. How else would despots garner attention and gain followers? Why on earth would anyone raise a hand or their voice against another unless they're driven by a logic, a rhetoric, that stands and falls on the feelings they generate, the reactions that follow, the emotional satisfaction they can bring?

"I'm going to slaughter 6 million people. Who's with me?" "I will give you a strong, proud nation, the greatest this world has ever seen, a glorious kingdom that will last a thousand years. Who's with me?" The power of words. The power of emotion. Words can be used to generate empathy and respect. Words can be used to create conflict, to divide and oppress. The very same words in some cases. Take the Bible, the Torah, the Koran, their words too often misused for personal gain, selfish purposes, evil. Just listen. Look around you. Here I babble but the world, oh dearest denizens, sometimes the world just renders me speechless.

Like dearest Europe, for example. Where are you going, old girl? Anti-immigration, anti-Islamic sentiments, anti this and anti that. Hatred disguised as nationalism. Nationalism disguised as patriotism. Egotism disguised as reason. This is your answer, your solution? What's the question again? You make them up as you go to justify your actions or should I say reactions because the only brain I can see at work and in charge is the reptile one. You feel threatened, you attack. Is there a reason to feel threatened? That's what I'd like to know but man is it hard to have a conversation with someone deeply immersed in a monologue. Take Erdogan whose new palace is bigger than the Louvre. The Louvre! And don't get me started on Orbán. One of my oldest friends is half Hungarian, and she's just... Well, not living in Hungary for one and probably never will be if this is their trajectory. And Putin... Putin explains Russia and Russia explains Putin. Don't be fooled, though. Russia and the Russian people are two very different things.

And I'm at it again, aren't I, soapbox out and foaming at the mouth... Great, just great. Let's talk about something else, shall we. The holidays? Yea! Whether you celebrate at Christmastime or not many around you do. I know it's a hard time of year to be alone. If you are, I still hope you enjoy the peace and quiet the holidays bring, even for a few days. I hope you do all the things that make you happy, things you enjoy, and if that's too much self-absorption to your liking, I hope you take up people on their invitations for you to come over for dinner, drinks, coffee... Maybe they're not asking because it's the Christian, Christmasy thing to do but because they really want you there. Life will resume normal programing in a few, you'll be swept away and full of excuses why you can't thanks for asking maybe some other time. Go.

We most certainly celebrate Christmas at Casa Dita. There's not much religious faith at the heart of our celebration because of the different individuals and denominations coming together, but there's love and compassion, there's empathy and respect, the moral compasses of die hard worshipers, agnostics and atheists alike. A religion, a life!, not rooted in love, compassion, empathy and respect...what purpose does it serve?

From soapbox to pulpit. Religion and politics? I just broke some social media rules, I believe, like all two of them. It's just that... Gah. 'Tis the season? Up next: New year, new gear! Are you thinking of a theme for 2015? Share if you dare. I've been on Facebook and Twitter, can you believe it, on-off as per this year's/this life's theme, but still. So find me if you want to keep in touch on a more daily/weekly basis.

I haven't had time or energy for writing fiction lately and that's a shame because I write in my head all the time. I intend to be a good girl over the holidays and get some words down on paper. Yes, paper. Still enjoy that, immensely, both writing on some and reading print. The computer and keyboard need a rest and I need some rest from them.

The dark days have been a drag but we got some snow yesterday and there's more coming in today. No more dreaming of a white Christmas, it's here and so is the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. Which means longer days from now on, slowly but surely! Another cause for celebration, what our "pagan" ancestors celebrated before baby Jesus and St. Nick started facing off. Can't shout too loudly, though, this is the land of Santa after all. Since we live in the vicinity, he visits Scandinavian kids on Christmas eve.

You bet the wee ones are excited and so am I. I need a break and some downtime with family and friends. I hope you get some rest too or if it's an adventure you crave, I hope you find one. I hope you find what you're looking for. I hope you keep the faith, whatever lies at the heart of your belief/s, and I hope whatever it is, it's rooted in love, compassion and respect. It would be sooo easy to give in to despair and cynicism, the world bombasts us with reasons every day. But we're not quitters, are we, sweetie darlings? It's our world too and love is our resistance.

Merry Christmas, sweetie darlings, and a most excellent new year.

A history of violence

Temperature: Fall is in the air/Everywhere I look around/Fall is in the air/Every sight and every sound... But thanks for letting summer linger for so long, much appreciated.

Eating: apples in any form/recipe you care to imagine

Drinking: now why didn't I think of that? Cider, sweetie darlings!

Watching: Losing Iraq (2014). Warning: graphic content, as in death, not just destruction.

Listening: to Mama Rosin

Reading: gearing up for see below

Writing: about to be tested for a project so wish me luck because I want this gig. “You want me on that team. You need me on that team. Who's gonna do it? You?”

Feeling: how to explain the world to your kids? Russkiy Mir, the Russian World, a neighbor for whom life, the economy and everything is a zero-sum game, a neighbor on a mission to not just peacefully cohabit but to oppose, to challenge. Or ISIL. Being asked is it true a group intended to pick a random Norwegian family, invade their home, kill them and put it on the internet? Are they coming here? Could that happen to us? Having to ask your children not to look at graphic pics or watch any videos, not even on a dare, ever, please promise me, because once you do you can't not see them and there are things in this world you don't want to recall, trust me, it's bad enough you know these things are happening to someone somewhere. The mother in me just wants to shield them and the woman in me just wants to bulletproof them and the human in me just wants to make them understand that it's their world too and that their voice and choices matter, so use them wisely and make them conscientiously. Destruction is easy. Building, restoring, preserving. That's what I hope they'll always focus on.

Pacific Day of Peace, dearest denizens, wherever you are.

Coming around again

How are you, dearest dearest denizens? Doing well, I trust, being as Tardis as they come, right? We came back late Friday night and on Saturday I celebrated my birthday in glamorous fashion by doing loads of laundry with some bubbly close at hand, estupidamente gelado i.e. insanely cold as Brazilians drink their beer. Vacation time is over but summer certainly isn't, the sun finally found it's way to Scandinavia and it's a hot one.

The last leg of our trip was a scorcher of a week in Denmark where we met a lot of very nice (and very tattooed!, what's up with that?) people, at least half of whom had probably done bit parts in Vikings (the TV series) at some point, judging by those tattoos I mean, which read like episode guides. If Finland is a forest spotted by towns and fields, Denmark is a (level) field of connected islands spotted by towns and forests. Using Swedish was just as useless as I thought it would be, apart for reading signs and such. They might understand what you were asking but trying to decipher the answer... Holie!

The World Cup now feels like a hundred years ago. I felt sorry for Brazil for a minute or two. So did they. And then life and the party went on. Germany displayed amazing restraint on the pitch, playing against a team playing in total shock, and admirable sportsmanship and support later on, on Twitter for example, and I second Mesut Özil: "you have a beautiful country, wonderful people and amazing footballers-this match may not destroy your pride! #Brasil".

Life resumed normal programing but they'll never ever forget. They're still talking about the loss against Uruguay in 1950. 1950! Brazilians still love football but many hated the Cup (read: FIFA) and are actually relieved Brazil didn't win because then all the insane amounts of money spent would have been forgiven and the protests forgotten. They didn't deserve to win and that's that, not with how they played, and maybe the pressure was too much, the expectations too great and the signals the team got, well, like I said they were mixed. What do I know. What I do know is football has always been fun and free and inclusive, an outlet as much as a doorway to a better future, everything the multibillion business the Cup is wasn't.

Next in line: the Olympics in 2016. We'll see how that goes. Don't know if we're going. Time to get back to work and down to business or we're definitely not going. Looking forward to it, actually, going back to work. No, really! Sure it was fun spending time with family, mine and Hubby's. On the rare occasion all siblings on both sides get together, I've counted 4 nationalities of 3 denominations with an atheist and agnostic thrown in who speak 5 mother tongues and all work in different fields. A family of many cultures and colors and creeds, some deeply rooted, some expats on the move, and it may look and sound like Babel but it's our life. It's life.

Such is my family, sweetie darlings, and such is the world and such a shame not everyone sees the beauty or respects the diversity of it all and I guess I can't make them, but we're all cousins on this planet, some more distant than others but cousins all the same. So when that's the world you know, your truth and your experience, how depressing was getting up to speed with the news after doing the Dark Side of the Moon Tour i.e. trying to unplug and avoid news outlets of all sorts. Pretty damn depressing. South Sudan and Syria, Gaza and Ukraine, Libya and Egypt, ISIS and Boko Haram, Ebola and terror, extremism and nationalism of the worst kind. Never again but always one more time.

What a family of feuding, belligerent clans we are. One thing I've noticed, no, four: In the middle of all the barbarity, it's easy to lose sight of all that's good and right and getting better. In the middle of all the savagery, it's easy to lose hope and trust and faith things will keep getting better. In some, any sign of vulnerability or helplessness, of distress or fear, rouses the need to protect. Some it just puts in a sadistic rage, and when that rage takes over you get a baby torn out of a belly sliced open with a machete. A five-year-old shot in the head. A woman raped to an inch of her life then buried alive. A man gutted like a fish. Not on the dark side of the moon. Not in some alternate sick twisted world. Ours.

I know you can't dwell on it all day long or you'll go mad. You cannot not think about it because it's like toothpaste oozing out of the tube. Good luck trying to push it back in. It's out, it's a mess, so what are you gonna do about it? What does this have to do with anything? Nothing, I guess. Everything, I suspect, because last night I dreamed I was back with my grandparents where I spent many happy summer weeks in my childhood.

I wasn't a kid in the dream, I was an adult and so were they. Not old like in the end, just adults. Funny that's where my mind went for solace. Logical, really. They gave the best years of their youth to a war that claimed her brother early on and a piece of his mind forever after. The very same years I spent at university having fun and getting a degree, he spent dodging and firing bullets while she worked her fingers to the bone in backbreaking labor so he'd have a home to come back to.

He rarely talked about it, any of it. She often told stories about life in the home front and what her brother was like, and one of my most treasured pictures is my great-uncle in his uniform, 19 years old, so very handsome and about to die. I could only imagine her pain. She missed him all her life. I could only imagine her fear. Would she lose her husband next?

He came back after years of fighting and close calls with barely a scratch on him. How is that possible? How do you go on in the middle of all that, after all that, with all you've witnessed and suffered and sacrificed? Play some football, meet up with family and friends, go out and see the world, not with a rifle on your shoulder but a backpack? You just do because you have to and because there is no option and it's not always your choice or voice that matters, it's not about you but the people around you.

So much randomness, a location lottery, a game of chance, an inch, a second that changes the course of one's life or spells death. So much love and selflessness, so much beauty and wonder, a word, an act that changes the course of one's life for the better. What a world we live in, sweetie darlings. What a family we are.

Blood spangled banners

I sit here on the northern corner of the planet and watch the world burn. All is quiet here, all is peaceful, in comparison at least. The sky blazed with fireworks last night and we watched rapt with sweet delight. Different kinds of rockets bulleted the night sky and city streets, fires raged, some new and some unquenchable, in other parts of the world. Those rockets and blazes were welcomed with quite disparate shouts and spirits.

Stoke it up, put it out or ignore it and hope it will go away, the choice is yours. Let them fight it out among themselves. You didn't start those fires. Why should you care what is up with them, somewhere else, anywhere but here? But do we really want to be part of a race that seems to have lost the 'human' in humanity? Doesn't it demean us, all of us, the evil and the beastliness?

We're all capable of it, and we're all capable of putting it under wraps, starting with ourselves. Maybe only within ourselves. You can be a good example or a horrible warning, to mangle that old adage, but you're setting yourself up for failure when you try to change someone else. If they don't want to, they won't care how much you want them to. (So take this with the proverbial pinch of salt or toss the container at me, but bear with me.)

Don't delegate, downsize or avoid the issue, complain or explain when hatred, prejudice and pettiness raise their ugly heads, especially within you. Don't sit and wait doing nothing because you can't do all that much. Do what you can. Some random act of kindness or a carefully planned premeditated one.

Those phone calls you've been putting off because so much time has passed you believe it will be awkward. That message you meant to write an eon ago but somehow never got around to sending. Those words you can't get out because maybe they'll laugh or think you're strange or stupid, a fruit cake, or fruity. Maybe they will, but let them think what they want; that is what they will do anyway.

I sit here on the edge of the world and promise to try and tame the devil inside, to use it's rage only to help keep up hope. And it's one of the toughest games in the world, hanging on to hope. It's not for the faint of heart. Think how much time and nerves and resources giving up on others and yourself would save. We can't afford to. This is an emergency, and we're all on call.