Altijd leuk om op het strand te lezen, een verhaal over ufo’s. Alleen heeft een Amerikaanse ex-officier nu écht onder ede getuigd dat de VS ufowrakken geheimhouden. Krijgen Mulder en Scully, de FBI-agenten uit de ninetiesserie The X Files, dertig jaar na…
The Others
“Hey, hey, if it isn’t Bunny Bunzenburner, venture capitalist extraordinaire slash celebrity music producer. Care for a carrot?” No, this isn’t a rendering of some nightmare, although my restless dream that night had an eerie resemblance to what happened that day. This…
I was in Rome shortly. Rome was nice. Everybody knows Rome, so please accept my apologies for not dwelling on its historic importance or assorted tourist paraphernalia. Suffice it to say that –in the parlance of our day- a lot of shit…
Svalbard is far away now. I can’t even begin to picture what set me to flee my home there; the warm and protective lair that I always liked so much to return to after a tiring business trip, clinching gas deals in…
“Hey Bunzenburner,” she said. “Ben!” She then turned to whispering in my ear: “Bunny, wake up.” My head hurt so much, I thought someone was attempting to assemble an Ikea cupboard inside my skull. My faculties were so impaired with pain that…
“Eeey ragazzo!” Luigi said. Traveling is a funny thing. A whole range of things that you take for granted suddenly assume new and unexpected propensities; like the taste of cold carrot pie in the morning –you can somehow not compare this event…
Something dawned on me the other day; I’m en route to meet Cassandra in Italy, and now that I find myself here, infused with a sense of how big –and to bunny standards quite vast- a place it actually is, a natural…
I crossed the border into Italy this morning. It’s somehow been very difficult of late to hitchhike anywhere, so by default I hop. I like to hop. Hopping, I’ll have you know, is a very efficient mode of travel. You don’t have…
So it is off to Italy then. If anything I am a curious bunny and the lure of the unknown tantalizes me at times about as much as steaming carrot pie on a window sill. I received an email yesterday from P…
I am in Switzerland. Don’t ask me how I got there. But more importantly; Svenbärd dropped in this morning. “Mr. Bunzenburner,” he said, as he’s always polite and formal after a long hiatus between our meetings. “How are you doing this fine…
Angelika was born in Magdeburg on May 15, 1973, roughly 4 centuries after Charlemagne’s crowning. Her parents are Rudigard Oberwesen and Rita Süsemädel, a policeman and housewife respectively. Angelika had always been a grade A student as they say; of exemplary conduct…
Walter’s infatuation with Angelika became apparent when instead of himself, she became the star of his homemade (no pun intended) movies. He would get restless when the time of her visits approached -always within office hours-, polishing his teeth with the index…
Aachen is where Charlemagne was crowned Emperor in 800 AD. This is roughly more than 357 years ago. The city breathes history and on every street corner and every little cobbled square the legacy of old Europe looks down on you from…
I’m still in Aachen, Germany. I’ve no money to speak of, so buying carrots is out. Let alone a southbound train ticket. I spent the last couple of nights on a patch of cardboard, generously provided by Walter, a 54 year-old hobo…
Three days ago I received an email from the president of the United States of America; Dear Mr. Bunny Bunzenburner, First of all Laura and I would like to wish you a happy New Year, and all the best for 2007! A…
Tomorrow is the New Year. Or rather, tomorrow is the last day of the old one. And although this might traditionally be a time to look back, I will do none of the sort. My gaze is firmly set to the future.
I hopped for six days straight, crossing the Netherlands diagonally and all the while singing “The Jesus Christ Pose.” Yesterday then finally, I crossed the border into Belgium, and it appears that this is where I shall spend Christmas this year; in…
I arrived in Holland this morning, hopping, off the beaten track as it were, munching on the rare carrot here, gormandizing a twig there. The forests (nothing but planted Scots pine and oak) are rather desolate this time of year, I must…
It’s been exactly one month since I left Svalbard. My situation, it must be said, leaves much to be desired. I’m currently somewhere in the middle of Denmark; I have escaped boredom, abduction and death itself. Luckily my loyal friend Svenbärd has…
Dear Bunny, Where to begin? If you are reading this, most of my distress will be alleviated, for it means that you are alive and well, or at least well enough to read; despite what I have done. I will start from…
I believe I must have passed out from all the frantic jumping. This, I am certain, allowed the collective mind of the bunny farm to invade the core of my being even quicker. After a while I came to, fully assimilated and…
The white rabbits came closer still. Any closer, I feared, and we would have imploded by the sheer congregated mass of colorless fluff. When the wet snout of the front-most bunny touched mine, they stopped. “We are all prisoners here.” A voice…
“So you believe the Devil is responsible for all this?” Cassandra asked, a little incredulous to my taste. “Well, yes.” She sat pensive for a while, her long black tail followed a curly path around her feet to lay its tip beside…
Cassandra and I set about our journey in good spirits. All through the night we paced in gentle, yet certain stride and while I hopped as quietly as I could, trying hard not to disturb the snappy dried twigs on the ground,…
It is a glorious day for freedom. This morning at 4.34 I unshackled myself from that pink Bastille and ran into the wilderness. It must have been the drowsiness of sleep that had temporarily unchained the iron manacles of Carrot Madness. This,…
I must escape. But perhaps I will await one more serving of sweet carrots before eloping. Last night Nina drove me around triumphantly on top of a pink Rolls Royce. In my fancy I remember these motorcars as being slightly bigger, but…
It appears that I have arrived in Århus, in the old European nation of Denmark. As I emerged from my den this morning, the salty froth of distant waves tickled my nostrils; this is a sensation I much relish. I do swim…
Boy, it’s been a grueling two days. At Hammerfest Regional Airport I was exposed by a rough-round-the-edges truck driver by the name of Haakon. It’s not that he picked me up by the ears or anything like that –God forbid. He even…
Instead of arriving in Reykjavík, I find myself somewhat marooned in a cargo hanger of Hammerfest regional airport, Norway. Since my arrival about two hours ago, I’ve been nibbling on little Styrofoam pellets for sustenance, and I’ve written a letter to Svenbärd,…
I hitched a ride this morning aboard the rickety boat that the scientists from the observatory use to commute to Longyearbyen. Right now I’m hiding in the back of a small plane, which I assume is flying me to Reykjavík. I ended…
There was a lot of activity at the weather observatory this morning. Three figures (I could make out gender nor feature in the formless white overalls that bulged around their respective personae) stacked a great many boxes onto a snow truck and…
Svenbärd Gulliksen came to visit today. For a cup of coffee as it were. He knows that what he gets is no Quartermaine or Willoughby's. It's not even such vulgar pitch as available in your local supermarket. Ha! You see, I might…
Winter is here now, but I am snug and comfy in my lair. Vaguely I can hear the wind howl outside, and all animals scurry and bustle to shelter from the inclement gales. I'm watching Six Feet Under. Amazon is great, sending…
There was a loud thumping noise outside my lair this morning. Fear struck me like a cow falling from a Russian cargo plane. Believe me, I..ve seen it happen. At first I tried to find innocuous explanations and for this I rummaged…
After long and arduous locomotion I have finally returned to my sub-terranean, yet far from humble abode. Winter is fast approaching now, so I have mostly kept myself to confined comforts such as watching assorted moving images on my Bang&Olufsen home theatre.
Currently I sit prone in the business lounge of Reykjavik airport waiting for my lay-over. No doubt once again some barely motorized airborne contrivance, big enough to hold five people and a rabbit, will serve as my conveyance to Svalbard. I really…
I do not know its name. I cannot fathom what a dog's name could be. My bunny brain simply cannot compute such an aberration of nature. It first appeared a couple of days ago. Whence it came, I cannot tell. It simply…
I jumped really high. I think it was further than yesterday. In other news, I nibbled on a carrot. Again. It’s hard to resist. Really. Especially if you’re a rabbit. I’ll tell you all about that some time.