May 26, 2015 edition
Money can link all kinds of things, distant and close. It reminds me of the film The Cup.
In a monastery in the Himalayan foothills, a novice monk called Orgyen is suffering from an addiction to something worldly: he is obsessed with football. The World Cup is on, and France and Brazil have made it to the final. Orgyen and his friend Lodo organize their friends to chip in to hire a television set and parabola from an Indian trader in the village opposite.
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More Sidelines articles in other editions
May 19, 2015 edition
A pimp, or someone looking like a pimp but dressed like Colonel Sanders from Kentucky Fried Chicken asks about God. "What does God look like? And what does He do?"
In Haruki Murakami's novel Kafka on the Shore (Umibe no Kafuka) the fictive Colonel leads Hoshino from the bordello to the edge of the woods. It is there that he suddenly poses this question. Hoshino is momentarily confused, and then replies, "Don't ask me. God's God. He's everywhere, watching what we do, judging whether it's good or bad."
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May 12, 2015 edition
May 5, 2015 edition
At the age of 12 he already knew a lot about anger. And it was with a past like this that he came to Bandung in 1955. Richard Wright: the witness who had been oppressed since childhood, like the inhabitants of Africa and Asia in colonial times, and who eventually liberated themselves.
During those days, in the road once called the Grote Postweg (the Great Post Road), Wright, the black writer, saw something important in the life histories of people like him: "The despised, the insulted, the hurt, the dispossessedin short, the underdogs of the human race were meeting."
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April 28, 2015 edition
Born: 1927, died April 13, 2015
Gnter Grass read a poem. I heard him at a poetry gathering in Rotterdam in June 1973. He read slowly, as though every phrase burdened his jaw and made his sour face even sourer.
Nun zogen sie durch die Strassen, 3,800 Propheten...
Now they moved through the streets in procession,
3,800 prophets...
Now they moved through the streets in procession,
3,800 prophets...