Questions About Donating Sperm
You know those situations when someone tells you about this ‘friend’ that has a very important question and maybe you could give him some advice? YOU know there IS no friend. HE knows YOU know. But you both keep pretending this friend really exists.
It happened yesterday during lunch. Out of the blue a colleague starts talking about a ‘friend’ that has some vital questions about donating sperm. Are there special clinics? Where can you find them? How much does it pay? And so forth.
I was in the middle of a delicious flan caramel when another colleague sees the perfect opportunity to compare my dessert with a bowl of fresh negro spunk. Very funny. Too bad for him it’s extremely difficult to gross me out. Especially since I specialize in eating chocolate mousse while changing diapers.
Anyway, the imaginary friend of my colleague needed some answers. But I had no idea. I have never visited such a clinic. Though it didn’t take long before we came up with some other questions on the subject at hand (no pun intended). Maybe even more vital questions, although not so frequently asked.
For example: on what basis does the clinic stipulate how much money you get? Do you get paid per task, per hour or per volume? I’m sure they have several magazines lying around. But do they have subscriptions? Or do they send some bozo to the press shop every once in a while? And what’s the point of view of the Vatican in all this. Sure, they’re against masturbation, since every sperm is sacred. But in this case no seed is spilled, right?
This last question led to an interesting hypothesis: maybe these clinics already existed in ancient times. Maybe Mother Mary visited one. Talk about Immaculate Conception! On a slightly different note: you keep hearing about all those Jesus silhouettes appearing in moist stains on walls, buttered toasts and hairy breasts. Maybe there is something like the ‘Handkerchief of Turin’? A relic cautiously kept secret by the Vatican. Let’s find out!
Silver Jews
There’s this one song by ‘Silver Jews’ I really, really like. It still gives me goosebumps after all those years. It’s from the record ‘the natural bridge’ which is a great record anyway. But song n°9, entitled ‘the frontier index’ is absolutely brilliant. Musically as well as lyrically. Check out these lyric excerpts:
Of all the people I knew I always looked up to you and after millions of years of crime the sun still shines and shines.
A robot walks into a bar, orders a drink, lays down a bill. The bartender says: ‘Hey, we don’t serve robots!’ And the robot says: ‘Oh, but someday you will.’
Boy wants a car from his Dad. Dad says: ‘First you gotta cut that hair.’ Boy says: ‘Hey Dad, Jesus had long hair!’ And Dad says: ‘That’s right son but Jesus walked everywhere!’
So, yeah, this really does it for me. Just simply amazingly good.
But, talking about goosebumps… They wear out, don’t they? Many songs that used to give me shivers don’t anymore. It’s a fascinating phenomenon. A moment of recognition or strong empathy or a feeling of cosmic connection or a glimpse of eternity or a hint of life’s elusiveness and your skin turns bumpy and sends shivers down your spine (or in my experience ‘up my spine’). But some songs wear out and others reveal themselves only until later.
Maybe I should make a top 10 of goosebumpers. Hmm, good idea, but not now…
Jump!
Download Movie (right-click and save target as) 15 MB
de portables doing a casio-pop rendition of Jump by Van Halen, coming very close to the genius od Eddie. Movie was shot in Brussels, not that this matters or makes the video better, we just like facts, so we can organize them, stack them and get an appolonian grip on the fierce force of nature.
donderslag
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de portables doing their version of Thunderstruck by ACDC in a euro-beat trash version with flemish vocals. Could have been a hit on Tien om te zien, if only jos van oosterwyck had ears on his body. It starts quit and calm with a très esoteric jürgen but soon erupts in très cool rock and roll. yihaaa! I have to use the word très much more.
