Gazing into the Abyss

No Time, No Post

2006-03-28T12:49:00.000+02:00

Several parallel work projects, several deadlines missed. Besides, we are moving our offices this week. I'm sitting in the middle of unspeakable mess of books, old magazines, old printouts and paper boxes. Arson is what I have on mind now. Funny story: several weeks ago, I've ordered that famous book Getting Things Done by David Allen; guess why. It came from Amazon, it has been seized by the customs, I've paid extra VAT, I've signed that the book is solely for my personal use and not for resale, I took the book home... and that's it. No time to open it, not yet.

To get the things done with Getting Things Done, I'd better to sell the book to someone who can really gain by the reading; not my case, apparently. But I've promised to the Czech authorities not to do that, so I've to add another another unfulfilled task to the list: read Getting Things Done!

82.6 percent

2006-03-20T11:00:00.000+01:00

Coming from the country where Communists usually took some 99.5 % in general elections, I don't consider Lukashenko's victory convincing. At least some of his people didn't do their duties properly! I wonder what is going to happen now. May Jonathan Steele be right? This is the Great Question of the West's East: what is worse, home-grown authoritarian leader or the invisible dictatorship of the Big Money? What's worse, country sold out or country silenced? What's more important, bread with butter or free press?

Don't answer too quickly for there is no simple answer. For years, we were told bread is more than freedom (not these words, of course). Since 1990, we are told freedom is more than bread (not these words, again). The result: old people believe, no surprise, in bread. Young people believe in freedom. My generation doesn't believe at all. We learned that the opposite to a lie is not truth but the other lie.

"Nothing is perfect," sighed The Fox. Нет в мире совершенства.

A Dialogue With Masseur

2006-03-20T01:01:00.000+01:00

-I might be have been abducted by aliens, he said in a casual manner.
-You what? I asked. I felt warm oil on my back, lying on the massage table.
-Aliens. I might be have been kidnapped, you know. They earmarked me with a chip. In my tooth.
He worked for a while on my left shoulder. I experienced mild pain.
-Perhaps, he added carefully.
-The trouble is, I didn’t resist to say, -that you can never tell such a chip from an ordinary filling.
-Oh I know, he said sadly.
I felt ashamed for my obviously inappropriate joke. What to do? What does he want, anyway – to be ensured that he was abducted, or just the other way round?
-I’m sure you’ll manage it, I said after long pause, uncertainly. It sounded even more stupidly than I had expected.
He smiled.
-Of course I will. You’re very kind, sir. Did you enjoy your massage?

Czechs and Slobo

2006-03-13T04:12:00.000+01:00

Estavisti from Beograd says Slobo's death doesn't mean a thing for Serbia. Perhaps so. Does it mean anything for the rest of the world then? I'm watching discussions about Milošević on Czech servers. Opinions are divided about half to half: "war criminal; bastard; well at last he's dead" versus "NATO bastards; murder; they didn't have sufficient evidence to condemn him so they killed him". The biggest Czech newspaper published on its web by mistake that Milošević was sentenced in The Hague; they didn't realize that the trial still goes on! (After several hours, the correction came.) Generally speaking, people here are not indifferent; they care.

Why? Czech relationship with Yugoslavia was always a special one. Czechs admired the beautiful country they could visit from time to time; the only shadow of the West they were allowed to see in 1970's and 1980's. (Czechs could travel freely into East Germany, Hungary, Romania an Bulgaria only. For Poland or the USSR, you had to have invitation, real or fake. For Yugoslavia, you needed less accessible but still more or less available permit. For the West, you had to prove you're reliable supporter of the regime.) A lot of Czechs and Slovaks flew to the West via Yugoslavia; a lot of Yugoslavian citizens (yes, we didn't care then who's who: Serb, Croatian, Slovenian... all the same) helped them selflessly.

I've never been to the West until 1990. But I've been several times to Yugoslavia: in Dalmatia and Istria, popular touristic resorts on the Adriatic Sea. I can remember how blue the sea was; the shops full of Western consumer goods that we've never seen before; nice clothes and nice haircuts of local people. I remember signs "hladna pića" (cold drinks) in Serbocroatian that we found extremely funny because their meaning in Czech is really very dirty. (We couldn't know that the word "Serbocroatian" will become dirty soon.) I remember how we didn't have money enough for an ice-cream, because Yugoslavian money was hard currency for us and we were allowed to change very limited amount back home. I remember, too, my first encounter with a beggar; there were none in Czechoslovakia then.

"Yugoslavia" is likeable word for Czech ears. Serbia and Montenegro, Croatia, BiH, Slovenia, Macedonia... they are not. Most Czechs never took an effort to grasp what happened in their beloved Yugoslavia, and why; and how; and who's responsible. Czechs now have no one there to sympathize with. Serbs are too rude and too close to Russia; Croatians are too smooth and too close to Germany (and, besides, you know, some of them were fascists!); Slovenians are too rich (the biggest sin at all!); Macedonians are too difficult to find on the map; Bosnians are... well, Muslims, is there anything worse?; Bosnian Serbs are... they are nothing at all because most people here are not aware of their very existence. (Karadžić? Who's that guy?) - And where are all that Yugoslavs gone? (To the juga dot com, I'm answering usually.)

Did I succeed in explaining why do Czechs care about Slobodan Milošević? He was the last remain of their Yugoslavia; of their dream about a country that never existed.
Technorati tags: czech, milosevic, yugoslavia.

Snow Crash

2006-03-12T09:52:00.000+01:00

Of course I have seen even more snow in Prague before but surely not this year. Yesterday was sunny spring day. Now I'm looking through the window and there is some 40 cm of snow on my car. Our street, going downhill, looks suitable for skiing. I've just received SMS that the airport is closed. All the city seems to be unusually quiet; silenced. Out of service. Just tell me there is no climate change.

He's Finished, for Now

2006-03-11T16:32:00.000+01:00

Slobodan Milošević is dead. The awkward problem what to do with him is solved - for now. However, Slobo will come back soon as a martyr's legend: Miloš Obilić of 21st century, betrayed Obilić who lost his Battle of Kosovo at The Hague. Gotov je? I don't think so.
Technorati tags: milosevic, yugoslavia, serbia.

How We Didn't Celebrate the International Women's Day

2006-03-09T02:34:00.000+01:00

Easily: we have forgotten. I spent a good deal of the last night in front of the screen, overslept in the morning, therefore stayed home (it was too late to fight the way through the city and back - and my boss is really tolerant as long as I don't miss too many deadlines), trying to work on ten things at once. O. came afternoon home in bad mood which is rather unusual; she's tired, too. Overworked prols of Information Age, that is what we are. Kids, homework, dinner, dishes... evening business as usual. Only now, after the midnight, I suddenly realized that we missed the feast completely!

The International Women's Day is generally perceived in the Czech Republic as the relic of the ancien régime which is more or less true. Wikipedia says:

[the feast] was used as a tool of the party propaganda, which hoped to convince women that the party cared about them and considered their needs in formulating social policy. During the last decades of the regime, this event morphed into a parody of itself. On every March 8th almost every woman got a flower and a small gift (typically soap or a towel) from her employer. Many men took this day as a convenient opportunity to spend the day drinking in the local pub.

...and not only in the pub; more typical was collective drinking in the office. Women, the honoured and celebrated ones, prepared some snacks, men brought beer and vodka... and thereafter women again, the honoured and celebrated ones, cleaned up the mess, calmed down the guys trying to make a pass, helped them to find their bus or tram station... Sounds terrible, doesn't it? Just like from your Orwell.

And now the little dirty secret (and the reason why I write this post). Most people loved it; both men and women. For my generation, it was a flash of the fun in the grey desert of boredom. Nowadays, we usually feel shame for that. To admit the fun factor, to say openly how it used to be - it's just like a reminiscence of teenage masturbation. Most of my contemporaries, oh I can hear them!, would say: "what... me? never!" (Regarding the International Women's Day, of course. They don't feel shame for masturbation. They accept it as a fact of the life. To do the same with our common past is not that easy.)

Not the Communist regime but the way how we treated the Women's Day made it undecent and useless. If I brought flowers home yesterday - well, I could; there is no such thing as too many flowers. But if I brought flowers with congratulations on International Women's Day, oh my! - it would mean that either I am completely crazy after all, or I make tasteless jokes. That's what remains of a once high-minded idea: a tasteless joke.

Most of us here in the West's East would like to forget about the past, just as I have forgotten about the Woman's Day. But the past won't forget about us.

Everyone sleeps. I go sleep too. To be fresh for another day of the capitalist presence.

(There is a lot of interesting coverage of the International Women's Day in former U.S.S.R. on Global Voices here.)

I Am Rich!

2006-03-08T03:22:00.000+01:00

In fact, I belong to the richest ten percent in the world. You, probably, too. All of us... bar five billions. (Link via BListy.)

See also UN statistics.

Technorati tags: poverty, 3rdworld, statistics.

West's East & East's West

2006-03-05T04:06:00.000+01:00

I took some effort to compile first draft of a list of good blogs from former Soviet bloc. I deliberately use this term to avoid all the confusion with definition of Eastern Europe, Central Europe etc. Soviet Empire is the place and time - place in time - we are coming from, all of us here, from ~~Karl-Marx-Stadt~~ Chemnitz to Nachodka, from ~~Ленинград~~ Saint Petersburg to Скопје - and all between.

You can find and enjoy the result of my search in the right column. I'd really appreciate tips how to enlarge and improve the list! Most blogs (exceptions marked) are in English, many of them are written by native speakers of English, i.e. expats. And all of them are worth to read.

Living with the City

2006-03-03T01:40:00.000+01:00

-Oooh, you live in Praaague! What a beauuuutiful city, isn’t it?

-It depends.

It depends who are you: resident or tourist? It depends on what you’re expecting from your life. It depends how much money do you have in the bank or, worse, in your pocket. In depends on your age, gender, skin color. Most of all, it depends on your willingness to believe in myths, on your suggestibility, on your naïveté. And, last but not least, on your ability to digest heavy fat meals with virtually no spices.

If the cheap beer, cheap tarts and cheap fake Soviet militaria is that you’re after, don’t hesitate: Prague is your city. People with different preferences should think twice. I am not saying you can’t find something for yourself but expect certain amount of frustration as a collateral.

As you, my sophisticated reader, perfectly know, Franz Kafka lived here. He never, ever used the name of his home city in his writings, though at least one of his novels – Der Prozeß – obviously takes place in Prague. And yes, Prague is Kafkaesque city indeed. Douglas Arellanes, an American expat, coins the term Kafkaville; it’s nice, though I consider Kafkastadt more apt. On the other hand, there is a lot of Kafkaesque cities around the world and Prague is by no means privileged among them.

Prague is provincial. It has little practice with being a capital. Since 1526, when independent Kingdom of Bohemia ceased to exist, country experienced only short moments of independence: in 1918 – 1938, 1945 – 1948 and 1989 – now (although many Czechs would rather say 1989 – 1997 or perhaps 1989 – 2004 is more appropriate). For the rest of the time, the country was ruled from Vienna, Berlin, Moscow and, for that matter, from Brussels. It is necessary to say that it wasn’t always bad for the country and the people.

Prague is, for the most part, a Potemkin village. The historic part – the “you mustn’t miss” sights – is instantly overcrowded but really (though conventionally) nice and genuinely old. Czechs didn’t fight a serious war on their own territory for centuries; facing such a threat, they always gave up soon enough. That’s why most of Middle Ages Prague remained almost intact, except of parts demolished in Bestia triumphans period (1890’s).

Frankly, if very old stone buildings are that you can’t resist, you’d better go to Avignon or Siena or Canterbury etc., but Prague, too, will do. Why not.

The rest is worse: polluted, gray, featureless. Sometime I’d try to compile a list of my secret tips what to see and to do in the city but generally speaking, the most exciting part of Prague night life is timetable of trains to Berlin. Prague is by no means not as colorful as Barcelona (Lisbon, Tel Aviv, Tallinn, San Francisco…) as vibrant as London (New York, Berlin, Paris, …), as cozy as Amsterdam (Bratislava, Copenhagen, Oslo…), as elegant as Vienna (Budapest, Paris…), as dynamic as Moscow (Warsaw, New York, Frankfurt…). Etc.

Prague is, despite of everything above and because of everything above, almost perfect. I love, I hate, I belong to.

Technorati tags: prague, czech, kafka.

Broken Language

2006-03-02T00:48:00.000+01:00

English is my second foreign language – and, frankly, not the one I love. It is rather a tool for me than a love affair. I am not forced to use English extensively in my daily routine. Of course I do some reading but I seldom use of the language actively, apart from some accidental e-mails. Soon after starting this blog I realized, with certain surprise, that the writing experience is not quite pleasant. I suddenly feel half-literate which is humiliating. I never know how many mistakes I made. Worse, I never know whether I tell exactly that I want to, or something else. Perhaps not completely else, just slightly else, but this is enough to make me uneasy.

Anyway: this is the common problem of any writing. The only difference is you are usually not aware of that when using your own language. My broken English makes me think more thoroughly about my broken Czech.

Ash Wednesday

2006-03-01T23:01:00.000+01:00

It is called not only "ash" but more often "ugly" here in the Central & Eastern. We have had a feast here, traditional feast falling on the day before Ash Wednesday. I'm not sure what is the proper English name for it: my dictionary suggests Shrovedite which makes me uncertain. I never heard such a word before - it sounds like some creature made by H. P. Lovecraft. The name is fašiang in my mother tongue or masopust in Czech which is hardly helpful for people outside our Little Balkan.

Shrovedite or not, traditions live and evolve. Our local fašiang was very urban, with veteran cars, with soldiers in Austro-Hungarian uniforms, with roasted sausages and beer. It is movable feast indeed: it drew a huge circle from paganism through Jews and Christians back to us (post)modern pagans.

Bird Flu Update

2006-03-01T05:07:00.000+01:00

#1: The disease spreads rapidly among poultry farms in Nigeria, increasing possibility of infecting people. The danger of pandemic coming from Africa is singificantly higher that from Asia, say the experts. The malnourished African population exposed to other serious diseases like malaria and AIDS is probably more susceptible to the flu than people from other parts of the world.

#2: Czech soccer team promised not to eat chicken meat during the stay in Turkey where they play a friendly match. They will limit themselves to veal and lamb.

Guess which of the news will make headlines in Czech media today.

To Fly or Not to Fly

2006-03-01T04:02:00.000+01:00

Air travel destroys the environment and has to be abandoned, argues George Monbiot in The Guardian. "We are all killers until we stop flying. (...) Some 92 million Bangladeshis could be driven out of their homes this century [due to the climate change caused by aviation], in order that we can still go shopping in New York."

I agree; but there is also another view. God knows how many million Bangladeshis (let alone Vietnameses, Thais, Chineses, Indians etc.) have their home, food and hope of better future thanks to the fact that people in rich countries are able to go shopping inNew York (Paris, London, Rome...). Slowdown of the world economy, if happened, means trouble for the North but immediate tragedy for the South. It looks like an imperative to save future Bangladeshi children from the tidal wave caused by global warming. However, aren't their parents going to die of hunger sooner?

I am not happy with this reasoning. I, too, would like to have a simple world with simple solutions of simple problems. But - no way.

1942: German Landing in America

2006-02-26T02:33:00.000+01:00

Alternative history is favorite subject of sci-fi writers: what if? What if ancient Rome invented steam engine? What if Charles Babbage managed to construct a computer around 1850? What if Hitler invaded America?

Actually, he did, as described in the book Saboteurs: The Nazi Raid on America by Michael Dobbs. German invasion forces consisted of not less than eight men. They succeeded to disembark from the submarine, four of them in Long Island, another four in Florida. They were supposed to perform sabotages with the ultimate goal "to disrupt the production of aluminum" - no small task! They were equipped with money instead of explosives and guns. Perhaps this was the reason why mission failed. Saboteurs, all of them Americans of German origin who left the U.S. for Germany during the Depression, simply defected - with $100,000 in their pockets. They returned to their home towns, they met their friends and families. The funny thing is they were not shy to speak about their mission. "I came in on a submarine from Germany."

The leader of the group, one George John Dasch, decided to inform FBI about the mission the first day they arrived but the officer refused to hear him out. Dasch stayed in New York, gambled away the money meant to disrupt the aluminium production and then approached FBI once more, this time with success. His ultimate reward was, surprisingly (in particular for him), the death sentence. Six out of eight were really executed, Dasch and another guy were granted clemency in the end. Strange story, isn't it?

To Be Carved into Stone

2006-02-25T02:35:00.000+01:00

This is so good:

"Life is too short to deal with orifices. Continuing on the orifice track. I'm now fifty-one years old, so more than half my life is over. There's not enough time left to accommodate orifices--frankly, there's not enough time to take care of the people you like. Why should you waste time with people you don't? So no matter how great a customer, partner, or vendor someone could, or should, be, don't waste time with orifices. They not only waste your time, but they taint your soul for the time you spent with the people you like. "

How true. What you spend more time on, staying with the people you like, or dealing with... er, orifices? Guy Kawasaki is right, though it is difficult to follow his wise advice. It works perfectly in theory, but just try to imagine particular ~~orifices~~ oh no, I mean ~~managers, shit, no, what a yap~~ persons and you'll become to realize thing aren't that easy as they should be. More realistic approach would be perhaps the gradual one: to decrease our dependance on orifices step by step, day by day.

Luke 23, 34: Forgive them;

2006-02-19T18:52:00.000+01:00

...for they do not know what they are doing.

Don't they?

n-tv.de: Frauen demonstrieren am Mittwoch in der pakistanischen Hauptstadt Islamabad gegen die Mohammed-Karikaturen. Was genau sie mit dem Plakat sagen wollen, bleibt unklar.

Comment from the blog The Politburo Diktat: "If Hitler were around today, I wonder what non-Aryan, sub-human, job-stealing, alien group would he blame Germany’s troubles on?"

I'm afraid I perfectly know was sie mit dem Plakat sagen wollen. We all know but don't dare to say. There is still a chance that this wave will go away... and we all, us and them, shall go on in the same mutual incomprehension, fear and hatred as before. Remember, this is the best possible outcome.

Meme of the Day: Get Your Music Taste Naked

2006-02-19T17:58:00.000+01:00

Rules are simple: make your music library program (iTunes or something like that) to pick up random 10 songs. Show us the list. No cheating allowed, though the disclosure may be embarrasing. Here is mine:

Sunday (The Day Before My Birthday) - Moby/18
Slow Boat to China - Charlie Parker/unknown album
Worldbank - The Soundtrack of Our Lives/Origin, Vol. 1
Why Johnny Can't Read - Frank Zappa/Shut Up 'N Play Yer Guitar
Girl from Mill Valley - Jeff Beck/Beck-Ola
Mannenberg Revisited - Abdullah Ibrahim/A Celebration
Bismillah - Tinariwen/The Radio Tisdas Sessions
Sister Jack - Spoon/Gimme Fiction
Neroli - Brian Eno/Neroli
Recording a Tape... (Typewriter Duet) - Bell Orchestre/Recording a Tape the Colour of the Light

Well, Moby as the first item... but at least it's a proof I was honest. Could be worse. No ABBA, no Black Sabbath, no Michael Bublé...

Al-Jazeera Has Really Cool Cartoons

2006-02-19T17:24:00.000+01:00

...no, no that cartoons. Neither anti-that-cartoons. Just have a look: the link is down left on their homepage, I can't put it directly here since it is JavaScript. Worth to see.

Wish I Were There

2006-02-18T03:32:00.000+01:00

...Do you think there's a far border town, somewhere,
The desert's edge, last of the lands we know,
Some gaunt eventual limit of our light,
In which I'll find you waiting; and we'll go
Together, hand in hand again, out there,
Into the waste we know not, into the night?
(-Rupert Brooke: The Wayfarers)

Hockey Is Our Game

2006-02-16T16:33:00.000+01:00

It is favorite trap for us foreigners and our broken English: I work hard vs. I hardly work. So: usually I work hard but this afternoon I hardly work because at the same time I’m watching ice-hockey in a tiny window of Windows Media Player. The game is rather fierce than nice: Switzerland is very close to defeat the Czech Republic. Both teams play poorly. Anyway, I like the game. We all do here in Eastern Europe; hockey is the favorite sport to watch here, perhaps ever more than soccer. Last evening I saw a game much better than this: Slovakia beat Russia 5-3. Beautiful! My hint for the final of the Olympic tournament: Canada vs. Slovakia.

By the way, our passion for the ice-hockey is by no means prevailed in the world. The “world” cup means that there is team of Canada (of course: hockey is a religion in Canada), the U.S. (though most Americans don’t give a damn), Sweden and Finland (ice galore) and various remnants of the Soviet empire: Russia, Slovakia, Latvia, Czechia, Ukraine, Kazakhstan. Ah, and Germany, Switzerland and Italy – but Italian hockey is something similar to Greenland’s soccer.

All the good hockey players from the East are employed by some N.H.L. team in America. The Olympic tournament is rare opportunity to see them playing for their homelands. The guys who stayed home and play in local national leagues watch their superstar colleagues in the TV. They will have their chance again at the world cup the next year. Due to the Olympics, the National Hockey League is interrupted, which is not the case of an exotic north-east Europe tournament called the World Cup.

Ducks today, Tehran tomorrow

2006-02-15T15:43:00.000+01:00

Shoot, man! Then think. Then lie. Later on, perhaps, apologize. Moreover, fail to produce license. - It was clear demonstration of his country foreign policy rather than hunting accident. There are always some collaterals there.

Do wiper blades count as a consumable?

2006-02-14T15:31:00.000+01:00

I suspect it’s a parody site but there’s also certain possibility it is not. A bunch of (obviously) young, healthy and comfortably situated people decided “to go beyond recycling in trying to counteract the negative global environmental and socioeconomic impacts of U.S. consumer culture”. In other words – buy nothing new if you really don’t have to, reuse, repair… That’s definitely OK and (if I may remind) we live by this code day and night here in less developed countries – though unwillingly; thus, of course, we don’t deserve any credit. Sort of national peculiarity, that is.

What strikes me, however, is the depth of details discussed among Compacters. “I need new windshield wiper blades. Does that count as a consumable item like shampoo?” Zealous religious discussion follows. I also learned of Reverend Billy and the Church of Stop Shopping which knowledge itself is a clear gain.

Well, I grew up in a country where it was commonplace for people in need for new windshield wiper blades either bribe the manager of state-owned store to reach into his secret supplies, or go and steal the blades from the nearest car. When parking the car, you always took the wiper blades with you home! You never left something so precious freely on the street, not even for several minutes. (Now you may thing I am joking. I am not.) Therefore, I like the idea to go and simply buy a new pair whenever and wherever I want. Without bribing, stealing – and without asking anyone. If you call this consumer society, you can count me in.

If I were young, American, comfortably situated… well, I would probably also feel a bit guilty of the state of the world. But instead of hunting for used windshield wiper blades and/or discussing if is it OK to purchase new ones, I’d rather driving my car less.

But, again, I believe it must be a joke. In that case, I swallowed the bait.

Ruble Becoming Hard Currency

2006-02-12T20:59:00.000+01:00

Russian ruble may become fully convertible by the end of this year, as Mr. Kudrin, Finance Minister of Russia, said today. Would you ever believe? I certainly not. I still remember very well Soviet-era rubles, pieces of soft color paper that weren't worth same amount of toilet paper - literally, because toilet paper was on the very long list of items that rubles couldn't buy in Soviet shops. Sort of negative shopping list, you may say. "Etogo u nas nyet, grazhdanin!" (We ran off this, citizen!) was the most frequent answer of any shop assistant in the U.S.S.R. And now - convertible ruble... Good luck you guys there.

What You Send Is What You Get

2006-02-11T16:37:00.000+01:00

Or, perhaps, even better. Go and try Sketch Swap.
What I sent:

What I got:

Culinary Microcosm

2006-02-11T12:02:00.000+01:00

If you haven't seen yet, look at this - superb. A suggestion may be useful for those who don't understand Russian and/or can't waste one's time with watching out del.icio.us/popular. Otherwise you already know...

The Year in Cities

2006-02-11T01:20:00.000+01:00

Another meme roaming around. I had become infected from Jason Kottke which is of course very posh source. No need to feel shame for jumping the bandwagon: what is good enough for Kottke, must be unduly good for me! So here's my list of cities visited in 2005. At least one night spent in each place, alphabetic order:
Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Barcelona, Spain
Bonn, Germany
Bratislava, Slovakia
Brno, Czech Republic
Copenhagen, Denmark
Gerlos, Austria
Jerusalem, Israel
Maspalomas, Spain
Moscow, Russia
Nice, France
Prague, Czech Republic
Svetla nad Sazavou, Czech Republic
Tel Aviv, Israel

Right or Wrong, My Civilization

2006-02-09T18:44:00.000+01:00

Were Martians to land tonight on the Earth, the first question asked by CNN would be: “What’s your opinion of the cartoons?” And there is needless to say what cartoons. There are no cartoons except Cartoons and Muhammad is a subject of Cartoons… and this means a lot of trouble.

What do I think? The very concept of free speech includes certain responsibility. I am entitled to make bad jokes about my neighbor’s wife but then I have to expect him to smash my face. I don’t like, apparently, the same type of humor as editors of Jyllands-Posten. My opinion is they did wrong when decided to publish that stuff. It’s like playing with matches near the gas station: it may be legal, it may be part of your civil rights, but every reasonable person feels your rights are not the most important aspect of the situation. But, well - I share the same civilization with the Jyllands-Posten guys. Regardless I think they did stupid thing I am on their side. Have to be. Right or wrong, mine.

Anyway: would you ever believe that selling Danish flags in Palestine could be such a good business?