Nice. Norden+ is a success. The cat can finally eat something decent again, and my vicious partner has been wanting a night out for ages.
As far as I’m concerned, on a leash.
It is getting worse by the day. Van der Kamp, who admittedly always wore a leather vest, has now bought a motorcycle jacket on Marktplaats and is once again claiming he’s going on a diet to fit into those worn-out Jim Morrison-style leather trousers. From the same era, if you ask me. I had just grown fond of the proper leather coat he has worn since 1993. I like leather that has a bit of weather in it. They say leather starts to shine if you wear it long enough. Well, I don’t know what our publisher has been doing in that coat of his, but at some point it looked as if the inside of the cow, or Argentine horse, it was made from had started to show through.
All because of that Norden+. I’ve had to squeeze myself into a uniform as well, because otherwise, as an old trans, I’m no longer allowed to take part in that magazine. And on a state pension, a second column comes in handy. The cat would also appreciate proper food again, and my vicious partner has been desperate for a night out.
To make matters worse, a trans has joined the editorial team. You probably know her: Vera den Adel, with that poor man who has to document everything she does in public for Facebook. I even had the pleasure of meeting her. Dominant type, if you ask me. Quick with the raised finger. Then again, she knows everything about film and music, which is probably what made Van der Kamp fall for her. Apparently she’s getting a column as well. That’s fine, but not in my spot, or I’ll drive over to Purmerend in my BMW with sidecar.
From one day to the next, this place is crawling with transgenders. Have you noticed? I quite like that Melanie, but I suspect she’s secretly straight, and what use is that? You can say a lot about my vicious partner, and she is a bucket of bile when she doesn’t get her way, but she’s not straight. At least she knows where to find my weak spots, even if it sometimes takes a bit of effort past the lower belly roll.
Van der Kamp is bending himself into knots trying to make both publications as diverse and inclusive as possible. At the last moment, the cover had to be redone, because “On the T with Vera” had to become “Tea with Vera.”
Why on earth, I shouted. “On the T” is much funnier, with all those transgenders.
“Yes, but Efa is of course a woman,” said Van der Kamp, with the look of a publisher who has recently been making too much money.
It probably also has something to do with Efa’s little dog Luna. Van der Kamp has always had a weakness for dogs. I saw the animal once. I said it looked like it had one glass eye and one normal eye, just like David Bowie, but I was immediately corrected: “Yes, but David Bowie wasn’t born that way.” No, and Luna can’t sing either, I almost said, but I kept that to myself, because when Van der Kamp is busy, as he has been lately, he tends to have a short fuse.
No, give me Melanie. Great sense of humour. She’s about as funny as my partner is vicious, let’s put it that way. She still knows all the old dodgy bars from back in the day. But yes, straight.
You do start to wonder how any straight people are still walking around after a full year of weekly Prides and Fetish Socials.
It would be better for this planet if everyone simply came from the wrong side, as they used to say so elegantly. Instantly freed from the surplus of snot-nosed children. No need to invent experimental medication to thin out the population. Only adopted children from impoverished countries like America, the Middle East, and Africa. Much more sustainable than forcing everyone onto heat pumps.
It is a pleasure, by the way, that you can say absolutely anything here, because the average Dutch person gets a headache from a sentence longer than four words. Without a full stop.
At de Volkskrant, you can also write about anything, as long as it is not about something of actual social relevance. On the first day of South Africa’s case against Israel at the International Court of Justice in The Hague, dealing with something as minor as genocide in Gaza, the front page of this once respectable newspaper proudly featured an article about how to change your T-shirt without taking off your jacket. Not a word about the case that occupied the entire world.
I sometimes say that NORDEN will eventually become the most important quality publication around. Not because our journalistic standards are so high, but because the other printed media are collapsing in quality at a breathtaking pace, trying to accommodate TikTok and Instagram audiences.
It may be that I’m simply talking nonsense, as someone once accused me of doing, but you will never see me use words like “perhaps,” “probably,” or “according to sources.” I stand behind everything I write. If I say my partner is vicious, you can be certain she is. If I call America an impoverished country, I know what I’m talking about. I’ve lived there. The only thing you might call speculative is what I said about Melanie, but Vera den Adel can correct that in one of her upcoming columns. For now, secure in the knowledge that my column will go unread straight to the printer, I will go and rummage through the fridge to see if there is anything left to snack on.
Madame Boissevin
Part of the Madame Boissevin archive →