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Today's quote:

Tuesday, September 8, 2026

"Say, Tom, let me whitewash a little."

 

"The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" by Mark Twain

 

Tom considered, was about to consent; but he altered his mind: 'No - no - I reckon it wouldn't hardly do, Ben. You see, Aunt Polly's awful particular about this fence - right here on the street, you know - but if it was the back fence I wouldn't mind and she wouldn't. Yes, she's awful particular about this fence; it's got to be done very careful; I reckon there ain't one boy in a thousand, maybe two thousand, that can do it the way it's got to be done.'"

And if you haven't figured out by now the source of this quote, yours must've been a misspent youth. It is, of course, that moment when Tom Sawyer discovers a great law of human action, without knowing it - namely, that in order to make a man or a boy covet a thing, it is only necessary to make the thing difficult to attain (which the female of the species knows instinctively as every married man can attest to).

And what a great business model it turned out to be in the age of the internet: facebook, wikipedia, ebay, and many, many other websites "allow" us - if done very careful - to "whitewash" their websites while they reap the profits without doing anything. Think about it next time.

 


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Monday, September 7, 2026

The House of Saud

 

Yours truly in his apartment in Jeddah in Saudi Arabia, reading "The House of Saud"

 

The last time I read "The House of Saud" was in my apartment in Jeddah in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. That was in 1983 and so, having long forgotten what I read then, I pulled the book back off the shelf today and started reading it again.

It's a brilliant, well researched, and valuable historical record about the founding of the Kingdom of Saud, [Saudi Arabia], with detailed accounts of its early dealings with the USA, Britain, what now is Turkey, and other Arab nations, and how it grew from a small desert tribe, into a powerful and obscenely wealthy Islamic state. The authors also give readers insight into the Shiite disturbances that began in the 1970s culminating in the seizure of the Grand Mosque, and the bloodshed that followed.

As it says in the book's blurb, "At Riyadh, in 1902 the Desert Raider Ibn Saud [Abdul Aziz] tossed the head of the town governor from a parapet down to his followers below ... thus was the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia founded. Two-thirds of the size of India, it holds a quarter of the world’s oil and has six times more overseas assets than the USA. A land of desert unchanged for centuries, with wealth and power to make the world tremble ... the domain of the House of Saud."

 

Read it online at www.archive.org

 

Originally born of isolated Bedouin tribes of the desert, the House of Saud attaches great importance to the purity of the bloodline. Marriages between first cousins, or equivalent relations, are preferred, or else carefully selected partners of equal status and purity in another tribe ... To quote from the book:

"As Islam permits each man to keep four wives at any one time, and as divorce is made easy for males under Koranic law, so that the magic number of four can be multiplied many times over in one man’s life, this custom begot not only large numbers of children by a single father, but also an immense ramification of family and tribal inter-relationships through several generations. Nephews married aunts, uncles were wedded to nieces and their children married each other to form a close-knit and, to the outsider, impenetrable mesh."

At the time of writing, the authors estimate that with about 500 princes descending from Abdul Aziz, together with wives, daughters and collateral branches of the family, 'the House of Saud cannot number less than 20,000 people.' The number of Abdul Aziz' wives has never been officially computed but official records show that he fathered 45 sons from 22 different women. In addition there were at least as many daughters from an even wider range of women, including no doubt some unacknowledged mothers among the various concubines and slave girls, not to forget 'wives of the night' whom it was customary [and still is] for Arabian men to enjoy whenever the opportunity arose. All they had to do was to 'marry' the woman or girl for as many hours as they desired, then divorce her by saying 'I divorce you'. Today, many women and girls are kidnapped from Yemen, and other surrounding Arab nations, for the purposes of this euphemism for a 'one night stand'.

In Islamic countries, the Koran and its inherent sharia law, or path to follow, supplies a total and explicit moral code but in Saudi Arabia it is even more than that. It remains there, the only recognised and enforceable code of law, so that the country is held in a '1300-year-old corset of town and desert morality that is deemed to be universally and eternally applicable.' This desert morality is upheld and brutally enforced by Wahhabism:

"In the middle of the eighteenth century, in what now must be regarded as the most fateful meeting of minds in Arabia since the time of Muhammad, Sheikh Muhammad bin Saud, ruler of Diriya, and great, great grandson of Mani, the first identifiable Saudi ancestor, gave shelter to an itinerant preacher of Nejd, named Sheikh Muhammad bin Abdul Wahhab. The preacher was a Muslim 'revivalist' and the world of Islam by then was much in need of rejuvenation and reform ... Abdul Wahhab was a true zealot, come to cleanse the 'stinking stables of Arabia' once more with the Word of God. But the Word of God proved insufficient for the task. Like the Prophet, Abdul Wahhab needed a sword as well – and to his eternal joy, he found one in Muhammad bin Saud and his family ... Although Muhammad bin Saud was only one of the numerous quarrelling Nejdi sheikhs at the time, little more important than the rest, he evidently grasped that a man who had a message would give him an edge over all his rivals, enabling him to unite Bedouin and townsfolk in a new jihad to extend his personal dominion ...

... Accordingly, in 1744 Muhammad bin Saud married off his son, Abdul Aziz, to a daughter of the preacher and thus sealed a compact between the two families that has been continued unbroken by their descendants ever since ... Contemporary Saudi Arabia, for all its money and the new corruption and idolatry that wealth has encouraged, remains in theory and to a surprising extent in practice, a Wahhabist state, officially dedicated to the preservation of pure Islam as propounded by Muhammad bin Abdul Wahhab."

The book takes the story of the House of Saud and of Saudi Arabia only up to 1979 and Juhaiman bin Muhammed Utaibi's crazed attempt to seize the shrine at Mecca but it remains relevant.

The authors - one of whom, David Holden, was murdered execution-style in Cairo, Egypt, in 1977, click here - seemed to think that the 'regime' had little chance of long-term survival, yet here we are, almost fifty years later, with the House of Saud still an arbiter, if not the arbiter, of much of Middle Eastern politics.

And here I am, forty years later, still amazed at how I survived those lonely years in the world's largest sandbox, and still reading about it.

 


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Unsere neuen Nachbarn haben neue Nachbarn

 

 

Morgens schalte ich immer gleich zwei Dinge an: das heiße Wasser für eine Tasse Tee und den Komputer. Und dann wandere ich mit meinem Tee für eine Weile durchs taufrische Gras und überlege mir wieviel vom gestrigen Nichtstun noch unerledigt ist um es heute noch fortzusetzen.

Ansonsten gibt es nichts Neues hier unten am Ende der Straße am Ende der Welt aber heute morgen sah ich diesen 'slip-on camper' vor dem Tor unserer neuen Nachbarn (naja, nicht ganz neu aber in den paar Jahren in dem sie schon hier sind, haben wir uns nur ein paar Male gegrüßt).

Seit ihrer Ankunft betreiben sie dort ein kleines 'Bed & Breakfast' und schreiben begeistert auf ihrem Blog: "... we love this part of Australia so much. It has taken us a lifetime to get here. Our search is over." Das war aber bevor sie die anderen Nachbarn kennenlernten ☺

Dieser 'slip-on camper' brachte gleich Erinnerungen zurück denn solch eine 'Brotbüchse' hatte ich mir in 1979 auch gekauft.

 

noch mehr Bilder

 

Damals war ich von meiner letzten Arbeit in Malaysien nach Australien zurückgekommen und hatte einen Posten in Canberra angenommen. Dann kam der Winter und die Wanderlust packte mich und ich fuhr los um dieses große Land zu entdecken. Allerdings fehlte mir das nötige Geld und so zog ich von Stadt zu Stadt um dort meine Dienste als Steuerberater und Rechnungsprüfer kurzfristig anzubieten.

Zuerst ging es nach Sydney, dann Mt. Isa, danach Mackay und Brisbane. Dann Melbourne und schließlich Townsville wo ich mich für länger festsetzte (fast ein Jahr; daß war damals eine Ewigkeit für mich!)

Alles gute Erinnerungen aber jetzt ist es Zeit für eine zweite Tasse Tee.

 


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A true story except for the parts that are not

 

"Declared open on 19th April 1987 by Mr Jack Myers
an employee engine driver & fireman of the Co.
from January 1937 to December 1973."

 

I discovered this little gem during another drive to Ulladulla when we strolled along the picturesque harbour to walk off some of the lunch we had overindulged in at the bowling club: pumpkin soup followed by a large Fisherman's Basket followed by a big slice of cheesecake with ice-cream.

Who was Jack Myers? Did he have any dreams and ambitions beyond being an engine-driver and fireman at Mitchell's Mill for thirty-seven years from January 1937 until December 1973?

Perhaps the point of this cumulative tale is Jack Myers' pointless life? Perhaps Jack Myers would've been engine-driver and fireman at that Mill much longer had it not been for the Mill's closure in 1974? Perhaps the highlight of Jack Myers' life is this plaque to his extraordinary ordinariness?

I don't know! And please, don't get me wrong: I am not knocking Jack! Jack and millions like him are the red blood cells that hold our society together. All I know is that nobody is going to put my name on a plaque for having lived the same year thirty-seven times over.

Which reminds me of a couple I used to know in Townsville - let's call them John and Elizabeth, because those were their names.

John had come here in 1957 as a young man, leaving his small country Austria to see the world. He took a job in Sydney and, on his first holiday, bought an old motorbike and rode north to explore Australia.

He got as far as Home Hill which, just a hundred kilometres south of Townsville and with a population of no more than a thousand at the time, was a backwater of a backwater.

John put up at the local pub where he met a young buxom barmaid who fell for his Viennese charm and accent, and they eventually settled in Townsville where John became the papercutter at the local newspaper.

He was still the papercutter at the local newspaper when I met them almost three decades later. By then, they had swapped their dreams of seeing the world for six kids and a small house in the suburbs. As Elizabeth wistfully remarked, "I married John in the hope of leaving Home Hill to see the world and I got as far as Townsville."

 

 

That was in 1985. Today the only plaque with John's name on it is in Townsville's cemetery. "Für immer in unseren Herzen." And in mine.

 


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Sunday, September 6, 2026

Red House

 

There is so much more in Hermann Hesse's "Wandering" - click here

 

Red House, out of your small garden and vineyard all the southern Alps breathe to me. I have walked past you several times, and even the first time my wanderlust was sharply reminded of its opposite pole; and once again I toy with the old refrain: to have a home, a little house in a green garden, stillness everywhere, a village below me. In a little room facing east my bed would stand, my own bed; in another little room facing south, my table; and there I would hang up a small, ancient Madonna which I bought on an earlier journey, in Brescia.

Like the day between morning and evening, my life falls between my urge to travel and homesickness. Maybe some day I will have come far enough for travel and distances to become part of my soul, so that I will have their images within me, without having to make them literally real any more. Maybe I will also find that secret home within me where there will be no more flirting with gardens and little red houses. To be at home with myself!

How different life would be! There would be a centre, and out of that centre all forces would reach.

But there is no centre in my life; my life hovers between many poles and counterpoles. A longing for home here, a longing for wandering there. A longing for loneliness and cloister here, and an urge for love and community there. I have collected books and paintings and given them away. I have cultivated voluptuousness and vice, and renounced them for asceticism and penance. I have faithfully revered life as substance, and then realised that I could recognise and love life only as a function.

But it is not my concern to change myself. Only a miracle could do that. And whoever seeks a miracle, whoever grasps at it, whoever tries to assist it, sees it fleeing away. My concern is to hover between many extreme opposites and to be ready when a miracle overtakes me. My concern is to be unsatisfied and to endure restlessness.

Red house in the green! I have already lived through you, I can't go on living through you. I have already had a home, I have built a house, measured walls and roof, laid out paths in the garden, and hung my own walls with my own pictures. Every person is driven to do the same - I am happy that I have once lived this way. Many of my desires in life have been fulfilled. I wanted to be a poet, and became a poet. I wanted to have a house, and built one. I wanted to have a wife and children, and had them. I wanted to speak to people and impress them, and I did so. And every fulfillment quickly became satiety. But to be satisfied was the very thing I could not bear. Poetry became suspect to me. The house became narrow to me. No goal that I reached was a goal, every path was a detour, every rest gave birth to new longing.

Many detours I will still follow, many fulfillments will still disillusion me. One day, everything will reveal its meaning."

These are Hermann Hesse's words (translated; they read even better in their original German) but they had such a personal resonance with me that I simply had to put them into this blog. Many detours I will still follow, many fulfillments will still disillusion me.

And isn't today Father's Day? I was reminded of it when I saw Father's Day cards on sale at K-Mart, six cards to a pack. A sign of our times?

 


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