So the smoking men are allowed to linger in Leiden University for the time being and the naked ladies in Purmerend town hall as well. These were pictures of naked women from the Beemster, which gave some visitors “an uncomfortable feeling”. Why? I think because the models in the paintings don’t wear headscarves.
But isn’t that ‘uncomfortable feeling’ the essence of art? That it stimulates a little and also simmers in the soul for a while.
By the way, this naked woman thing was news that was snowed under by more important things this week. And of course I am not talking about the victories of Saudi Arabia over the Argentines and Japan over the Germans. Because that’s just football. Although? That World Cup seems to be the salvation of many a desolate existence.
Nor am I talking about Putin’s cozy bombing of civilian targets in Ukraine. I think it’s so wonderful that when you fire your missiles at enemy power plants you know that hundreds of thousands of people will die in the freezing cold afterwards. I’ve heard that freezing to death isn’t painful at all. You disappear into a soft coma and in that way smoothly leave the sublunary. Almost stoned with happiness. So that Putin is actually not too bad.
He is not as bad as our national broadcaster Matthijs van Nieuwkerk, who has blown quite a few innocent editors through his daily ego show. And not just editors. Guests were also dealt with ruthlessly. It seems that even King Willem-Alexander was once canceled while he was already in make-up. The king then cautiously objected to this, but Matthijs’ right-hand man Dieuwke Wynia personally scolded the studio. In the parking lot, he had to get on his knees next to his limousine and say “sorry” loudly and clearly. The monarch reluctantly did so.
What news that was. The broadcasting world shook to its foundations this week. But take it from me: Matthijs is not the first and certainly not the only one. Last week I went through a list of equally suspicious television types with some colleagues and I heard facts that were not tender. A few more staggering aftershocks are coming soon. A cursing Andries Knevel, a Tijs van den Brink ramming on the table with a crucifix and Jan Slagter seem to have cremated André van Duin almost alive in one of the ovens of Heel Holland Bakt. Just sayin. Matthijs is just the tip of a nasty smelly iceberg.
I’m not sure myself either. The theater magazine Privately will soon reveal that for decades before every performance I have locked my musicians in a cramped orchestra pit all afternoon and that they have to rehearse all the songs and music from the performance for four hours without interruption. Nude. Without food and drink. They once protested to my impresario, but he then suspended the whistleblowers. Without salary, of course. I can tell you now that it is not true. This only happens once a week and they are only stuck for two hours.
The most fun part of the high-profile Volkskrantarticle about Matthijs, I found the argument between the presenter and his hairdryer, which he even fired at one point. The hair dryer told Beau last week how hard she had it after her discharge. There was no warm breeze for years. She is happy with the exposure.
And I am happy with my desolate baldness. Especially when I read about the tragic fate of this hair dryer. Not a single polonaise on my busy head. My head has to think. For example, about the apologies for our slavery past.
The Netherlands will soon go to eight places that offer apologies. Perhaps a good idea if BNNVARA wants to broadcast it and that it will be Matthijs’ cautious comeback. I think it’s funny if he shows up with a fresh, cheerful, cropped haircut. Or is that sad for the hairdryer?
A version of this article also appeared in the newspaper of November 26, 2022