If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even their own life—such a person cannot be my disciple. And whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.

Luke 14:26

Annexed by Germany: North sea beach. Ze Krauts have got their own beaches, but apparently ours are nicer. We don’t mind them, but they do have the funny tendency to dig holes in the sand to mark their territory. Still an improvement over their previous methods. The most well-known seaside town is Scheveningen, which is coincidentally a nice shibboleth to determine whether someone is Dutch or German.
Arrogant schmucks (and ignorant tourists): Amsterdam. Loud, obnoxious, and claiming to be the center of the universe (also known as “almost every capital city ever”). We generally like tourists, apart from those who don’t see the differences between sidewalk and bike path, and those who think the Netherlands consists of Amsterdam and some windmills and tulip fields.
At least we’ve got a naval base: Den Helder . Hometown of the Dutch navy, which makes it sound way more spectacular than it is. Seriously, don’t bother going to Den Helder. Except for boarding the ferry to Texel. Texel is nice.
Backyard to the big cities: Groene Hart/Green Heart . Thinly populated, rural, and completely surrounded by cities like Rotterdam, The Hague and Utrecht. Filled with lakes, small rivers and marshes, and therefore ideal for all kinds of recreational activities. If we’d make an effort and fill it up with housing projects, we could create a metropolitan region that outranks the San Francisco Bay area. However, since most people like it the way it is, we now have a nice soggy backyard with no industry of significance.
Beach holiday territory: Waddeneilanden/West Frisian Islands . Texel, Vlieland, Terschelling, Ameland and Schiermonnikoog. Less Germans, so more room on the beach for us. Great place for cycling and camping, as long as the wind blows in the right direction and you know how to properly set up a tent.
Better off as an island: Urk. Used to be an actual island, and still is for all intents and purposes. Very religious. Very conservative. Close community. Lots of fish.
Bible belt: what it says on the tin. Conservative protestants all the way from Zeeland to Drenthe. First place to aim your frustration at during measles outbreaks, because of their dislike for state-run vaccination programs.
Broke Commies: East Groningen. The only area where the Communist party still has some foothold. Also the poorest region of the entire country. No industry, no tourism, and nothing to do but emigrate to Germany.
Catholic carnival country: North Brabant. Also known as the area “below the rivers”. Apart from Limburg the only province with a catholic majority, known for their “Burgundic” behaviour (i.e. bon vivants, who enjoy their beer and their festivities.) Local dialect that approaches Flemish.
Cheeseheads: North Holland/Zaan district. Together with South Holland the only area that actually warrants the ethnic slur. Very industrious ever since the Dutch Golden Age .
Corrupt unintelligible backup-Belgians: Limburg. Experts in cronyism, nepotism and pastry. The jury is still out on whether the Limburgers or the Frisians are the most unintelligible people, but at least the Frisians are honest about it and admit they’re speaking a different language.
Flat and dull: Flevoland. Reclaimed from the sea in the early fifties. The project itself was spectacular, the end result less so. Flat, empty and windy. So we crammed some windmills into the area, and now everybody is happy.
Frat boy city: Leiden. This one gets a bit lost in translation. Americans have frat boys, we have “corpsballen”. The hazing and the beer consumption is still there, though. They can be found in any university town, it’s just that Leiden has no other significant claim to fame.
Friendly neighbours (and farmers): Twente. Home to agriculture, the Grolsch beer brewery and the concept of “noaberskop”.
Frugal and first to drown: Zeeland . Putting the “New” in “New Zealand” since 1645. Industrious and sober people. Used to be the first potential victim to being swallowed by the sea. After that actually happened, they decided to build some world-famous dams, and now they’re pretty much safe. Good on ya, Zeeland!
Fruit pickers: Betuwe/Rivierenland. Lots of rivers, plenty of fertile ground for fruit orchards. At some point they decided they needed a mascot, so they came up with a young boy with a body made out of berries.
Greenhouses everywhere: Westland. Seriously, not kidding.
Incestuous fishermen: Volendam. Incredibly tight-knit fishing community, known for their traditional clothing. For some reason responsible for half of Dutch pop music production.
Little Havana: Nijmegen. In Dutch known as “Havana aan de Waal” (Havana-upon-Waal), after the river on which it is situated. Politically left-leaning ever since the sixties and seventies.
Look, we’ve got mountains: South Limburg. Proud owner of the Vaalserberg, at 322m (1059 ft) the highest point of the Netherlands. Too bad we have to share it with both Belgium and Germany.
Motocross (and farmers): Achterhoek. Rural area, home of the Zwarte Cross and other mud-related activities.
Multicultural skyscraperfest: Rotterdam. Used to have a nice traditional city center, then we had some Germans over and the whole thing got a bit out of hand and now it’s mostly post-war highrise. Has the highest percentage of foreigners from non-industrialised nations, one of whom made it to the mayor’s office.
Murderers and socialists: Oss. In the early 20th century infamous because of the brutal killings by the Oss Gang, now mostly known as the hometown of Jan Marijnissen, chairman of the Dutch Socialist Party. Which is not half as spectacular as the whole murder thing, but the local tourist office probably prefers it this way.
Not Friesland: Leeuwarden. Capital of the province of Friesland, but they don’t speak the same language and they don’t support the same football club, so no one in Friesland takes them seriously.
Philipstown: Eindhoven. Owes much of its growth and image as a high-tech city to the Philips company, even though they moved their headquarters to Amsterdam in the late nineties.
Politicians and hooligans: The Hague. Home of both the Dutch government and the football club ADO Den Haag, which tends to have some crowd control issues on match days (although it’s not half as bad as it used to be). The violent core has a longstanding rivalry with Ajax Amsterdam, who in turn care more about their rivalry with Feyenoord Rotterdam.
Posh and pompous: Gooi area. Situated between Amsterdam and Hilversum (the country’s main broadcasting centre), Het Gooi is the home of the rich and famous. Decadent, opulent and affluent, and rather keen to show it. The villas are nice, though.
Sadistic wet bastard: North Sea. Great for international trade, awful for keeping your feet dry.
Stoic farmers: Groningen. Most popular local phrase to express unbridled enthousiasm for a specific event: “Could be worse.” Strong dislike of Friesland, a feeling that is entirely mutual.
Streams (and farmers): Salland. Had to look this one up, no one cares about Salland. But apparently they have a lot of waterways and such. So yeah, streams. Must be nice for cycling or something. Go Salland!
Stubborn blond speedskaters: Friesland/Frisia. Probably the first province to secede from the rest. Strong regional identity, incomprehensible dialect which is pretty close to English. When they’re not speedskating, they are sailing in a skûtsje. When they’re not sailing in a skûtsje, they are jumping over a ditch using a pole five times their body size by sticking it in the ditch and climbing to the top hoping they reach the other side in time.
Suicidal kids: West Friesland. Not a part of Friesland, oddly enough. No significant industry, no higher education, lots of drug use and one of the highest youth suicide rates in the country.
Too far away for any practical purposes: City of Groningen. The only university town in the entire north. Generally considered to be quite nice, but a two and a half hour drive from the main metropolitan areas and therefore off the radar.
Too poor to live in Amsterdam: Almere. Commuter town for the capital. Built in the seventies and eighties, and it’s showing.
Train delay central: Utrecht. Great place once you look past the train station and the adjacent shopping mall, but also a crucial railway hub for the country. If something train-related breaks down here, you’ll notice it all the way to South Limburg.
Wait, people live here?: Drenthe. Back when the Dutch called themselves the Republic of the Seven United Netherlands, Drenthe was actually province number eight. Since they were dirt poor, however, no one bothered to count them in (or give them voting rights in the senate, for that matter). Great place for a compulsory holiday with your parents. They’ve got ancient rocks, and…yeah, no, that’s it. They’ve got rocks. Oh, and a Nazi camp. So they’ve got that going for them, which is nice.
Why did we drain this area again?: Noordoostpolder/North East Polder. Flat area, also drained in the early 20th century, and the closest we managed to get to a flat SimCity model. We sprawled some villages here and there on the flat soil and hoped that it would amount to something, but it really doesn’t. Did I mention how flat it is?
Woodland, wildlife and bike lanes: Veluwe. The largest national park of the Netherlands, and the only place where you genuinely can get lost in the woods. You know, until you stumble upon one of the numerous bike paths used to get across the car-free zone, like, ten minutes after you got lost. Has more camp sites and bungalow parks than the entire country of Switzerland. We like our caravans, man.
You’re ours now, bitch!: IJsselmeer/Lake Yssel. Used to be an open sea, complete with tides and salt water and shit. Then we decided we didn’t like it, built a dike around it, and started waterskiing on its face
  • Annexed by Germany: North sea beach. Ze Krauts have got their own beaches, but apparently ours are nicer. We don’t mind them, but they do have the funny tendency to dig holes in the sand to mark their territory. Still an improvement over their previous methods. The most well-known seaside town is Scheveningen, which is coincidentally a nice shibboleth to determine whether someone is Dutch or German.
  • Arrogant schmucks (and ignorant tourists): Amsterdam. Loud, obnoxious, and claiming to be the center of the universe (also known as “almost every capital city ever”). We generally like tourists, apart from those who don’t see the differences between sidewalk and bike path, and those who think the Netherlands consists of Amsterdam and some windmills and tulip fields.
  • At least we’ve got a naval base: Den Helder . Hometown of the Dutch navy, which makes it sound way more spectacular than it is. Seriously, don’t bother going to Den Helder. Except for boarding the ferry to Texel. Texel is nice.
  • Backyard to the big cities: Groene Hart/Green Heart . Thinly populated, rural, and completely surrounded by cities like Rotterdam, The Hague and Utrecht. Filled with lakes, small rivers and marshes, and therefore ideal for all kinds of recreational activities. If we’d make an effort and fill it up with housing projects, we could create a metropolitan region that outranks the San Francisco Bay area. However, since most people like it the way it is, we now have a nice soggy backyard with no industry of significance.
  • Beach holiday territory: Waddeneilanden/West Frisian Islands . Texel, Vlieland, Terschelling, Ameland and Schiermonnikoog. Less Germans, so more room on the beach for us. Great place for cycling and camping, as long as the wind blows in the right direction and you know how to properly set up a tent.
  • Better off as an island: Urk. Used to be an actual island, and still is for all intents and purposes. Very religious. Very conservative. Close community. Lots of fish.
  • Bible belt: what it says on the tin. Conservative protestants all the way from Zeeland to Drenthe. First place to aim your frustration at during measles outbreaks, because of their dislike for state-run vaccination programs.
  • Broke Commies: East Groningen. The only area where the Communist party still has some foothold. Also the poorest region of the entire country. No industry, no tourism, and nothing to do but emigrate to Germany.
  • Catholic carnival country: North Brabant. Also known as the area “below the rivers”. Apart from Limburg the only province with a catholic majority, known for their “Burgundic” behaviour (i.e. bon vivants, who enjoy their beer and their festivities.) Local dialect that approaches Flemish.
  • Cheeseheads: North Holland/Zaan district. Together with South Holland the only area that actually warrants the ethnic slur. Very industrious ever since the Dutch Golden Age .
  • Corrupt unintelligible backup-Belgians: Limburg. Experts in cronyism, nepotism and pastry. The jury is still out on whether the Limburgers or the Frisians are the most unintelligible people, but at least the Frisians are honest about it and admit they’re speaking a different language.
  • Flat and dull: Flevoland. Reclaimed from the sea in the early fifties. The project itself was spectacular, the end result less so. Flat, empty and windy. So we crammed some windmills into the area, and now everybody is happy.
  • Frat boy city: Leiden. This one gets a bit lost in translation. Americans have frat boys, we have “corpsballen”. The hazing and the beer consumption is still there, though. They can be found in any university town, it’s just that Leiden has no other significant claim to fame.
  • Friendly neighbours (and farmers): Twente. Home to agriculture, the Grolsch beer brewery and the concept of “noaberskop”.
  • Frugal and first to drown: Zeeland . Putting the “New” in “New Zealand” since 1645. Industrious and sober people. Used to be the first potential victim to being swallowed by the sea. After that actually happened, they decided to build some world-famous dams, and now they’re pretty much safe. Good on ya, Zeeland!
  • Fruit pickers: Betuwe/Rivierenland. Lots of rivers, plenty of fertile ground for fruit orchards. At some point they decided they needed a mascot, so they came up with a young boy with a body made out of berries.
  • Greenhouses everywhere: Westland. Seriously, not kidding.
  • Incestuous fishermen: Volendam. Incredibly tight-knit fishing community, known for their traditional clothing. For some reason responsible for half of Dutch pop music production.
  • Little Havana: Nijmegen. In Dutch known as “Havana aan de Waal” (Havana-upon-Waal), after the river on which it is situated. Politically left-leaning ever since the sixties and seventies.
  • Look, we’ve got mountains: South Limburg. Proud owner of the Vaalserberg, at 322m (1059 ft) the highest point of the Netherlands. Too bad we have to share it with both Belgium and Germany.
  • Motocross (and farmers): Achterhoek. Rural area, home of the Zwarte Cross and other mud-related activities.
  • Multicultural skyscraperfest: Rotterdam. Used to have a nice traditional city center, then we had some Germans over and the whole thing got a bit out of hand and now it’s mostly post-war highrise. Has the highest percentage of foreigners from non-industrialised nations, one of whom made it to the mayor’s office.
  • Murderers and socialists: Oss. In the early 20th century infamous because of the brutal killings by the Oss Gang, now mostly known as the hometown of Jan Marijnissen, chairman of the Dutch Socialist Party. Which is not half as spectacular as the whole murder thing, but the local tourist office probably prefers it this way.
  • Not Friesland: Leeuwarden. Capital of the province of Friesland, but they don’t speak the same language and they don’t support the same football club, so no one in Friesland takes them seriously.
  • Philipstown: Eindhoven. Owes much of its growth and image as a high-tech city to the Philips company, even though they moved their headquarters to Amsterdam in the late nineties.
  • Politicians and hooligans: The Hague. Home of both the Dutch government and the football club ADO Den Haag, which tends to have some crowd control issues on match days (although it’s not half as bad as it used to be). The violent core has a longstanding rivalry with Ajax Amsterdam, who in turn care more about their rivalry with Feyenoord Rotterdam.
  • Posh and pompous: Gooi area. Situated between Amsterdam and Hilversum (the country’s main broadcasting centre), Het Gooi is the home of the rich and famous. Decadent, opulent and affluent, and rather keen to show it. The villas are nice, though.
  • Sadistic wet bastard: North Sea. Great for international trade, awful for keeping your feet dry.
  • Stoic farmers: Groningen. Most popular local phrase to express unbridled enthousiasm for a specific event: “Could be worse.” Strong dislike of Friesland, a feeling that is entirely mutual.
  • Streams (and farmers): Salland. Had to look this one up, no one cares about Salland. But apparently they have a lot of waterways and such. So yeah, streams. Must be nice for cycling or something. Go Salland!
  • Stubborn blond speedskaters: Friesland/Frisia. Probably the first province to secede from the rest. Strong regional identity, incomprehensible dialect which is pretty close to English. When they’re not speedskating, they are sailing in a skûtsje. When they’re not sailing in a skûtsje, they are jumping over a ditch using a pole five times their body size by sticking it in the ditch and climbing to the top hoping they reach the other side in time.
  • Suicidal kids: West Friesland. Not a part of Friesland, oddly enough. No significant industry, no higher education, lots of drug use and one of the highest youth suicide rates in the country.
  • Too far away for any practical purposes: City of Groningen. The only university town in the entire north. Generally considered to be quite nice, but a two and a half hour drive from the main metropolitan areas and therefore off the radar.
  • Too poor to live in Amsterdam: Almere. Commuter town for the capital. Built in the seventies and eighties, and it’s showing.
  • Train delay central: Utrecht. Great place once you look past the train station and the adjacent shopping mall, but also a crucial railway hub for the country. If something train-related breaks down here, you’ll notice it all the way to South Limburg.
  • Wait, people live here?: Drenthe. Back when the Dutch called themselves the Republic of the Seven United Netherlands, Drenthe was actually province number eight. Since they were dirt poor, however, no one bothered to count them in (or give them voting rights in the senate, for that matter). Great place for a compulsory holiday with your parents. They’ve got ancient rocks, and…yeah, no, that’s it. They’ve got rocks. Oh, and a Nazi camp. So they’ve got that going for them, which is nice.
  • Why did we drain this area again?: Noordoostpolder/North East Polder. Flat area, also drained in the early 20th century, and the closest we managed to get to a flat SimCity model. We sprawled some villages here and there on the flat soil and hoped that it would amount to something, but it really doesn’t. Did I mention how flat it is?
  • Woodland, wildlife and bike lanes: Veluwe. The largest national park of the Netherlands, and the only place where you genuinely can get lost in the woods. You know, until you stumble upon one of the numerous bike paths used to get across the car-free zone, like, ten minutes after you got lost. Has more camp sites and bungalow parks than the entire country of Switzerland. We like our caravans, man.
  • You’re ours now, bitch!: IJsselmeer/Lake Yssel. Used to be an open sea, complete with tides and salt water and shit. Then we decided we didn’t like it, built a dike around it, and started waterskiing on its face

'OLD SALT' DOUGHNUT HOLE INVENTOR TELLS JUST HOW DISCOVERY WAS MADE AND STOMACH OF EARTHS SAVED

Special to The Washington Post.; The Washington Post (1877-1954), Washington, D.C.; Mar 26, 1916; pg. ES9, 1 pgs

Boston, March 25.—The man who invented the hole in the doughnut has been found. He is Capt. Hanson Gregory, at present an inmate in Sailor’s Snug Harbor, at Quincy, Mass. Doughnut cutters have made fortunes for men; millions eat doughnuts for breakfast and feel satisfied. Doctors do not assail the doughnut. And all of this owes its being to Capt. Gregory, who made the doughnut a safe, sane and hygienic food.

It’s a long story, mates; but as the 85-year-old chap relates it, it’s only too short. Outside the fact that Capt. Gregory is a bit hard of hearing, he’s as sound as new timber.

He’s a product of Maine; and so Maine can lay claim to the discoverer of the hole in the doughnut, along with the discoverer of new ways to evade the prohibition laws. But Capt. Gregory’s discovery is of real use in the world; millions have risen, and millions more shall rise up, and call him blessed.

'Bout '47 Was the Date.

"It was way back—oh, I don’t know just what year—let me see—born in ‘31, shipped when I was 13—well, I guess it was about ‘47, when I was 16, that I was aboard ship and discovered the hole which was later to revolutionize the doughnut industry.

"I first shipped aboard the Isaac Achorn, three-masted schooner, Capt. Rhodes, in the lime trade. Later I joined other crews and other captains, and it was on one of these cruises that I was mawing doughnuts.

"Now in them days we used to cut the doughnuts into diamond shapes, and also into long strips, bent in half, and then twisted. I don’t think we called them doughnuts then—they was just ‘fried cakes’ and ‘twisters.’

"Well, sir, they used to fry all right around the edges, but when you had the edges done the insides was all raw dough. And the twisters used to sop up all the grease just where they bent, and they were tough on the digestion."

"Pretty d—d tough, too!" profanely agreed one of the dozen pipe-smoking fellows who were all eyes and ears, taking in their comrade’s interview by The Post reporter.

With a glance at the perfervid interrupter, the discoverer continued: ”Well, I says to myself, ‘Why wouldn’t a space inside solve the difficulty?’ I thought at first I’d take one of the strips (Col. 2—ed.) and roll it around, then I got an inspiration, a great inspiration.

"I took the cover off the ship’s tin pepper box, and—I cut into the middle of that doughnut the first hole ever seen by mortal eyes!"
“Were you pleased?”
“Was Columbus pleased? Well, sir, them doughnuts was the finest I ever tasted. No more indigestion—no more greasy sinkers—but just well-done, fried-through doughnuts.

"That cruise over, I went home to my old mother and father in Camden, Me., where I was born. My father, Hanson Gregory, sr., lived to be 93, and my mother lived to be 79. She was a pretty old lady then. I saw her making doughnuts in the kitchen—I can see her now, and as fine a woman as ever-lived, was my mother.

Taught Trick to Mother

"I says to her: ‘Let me make some doughnuts for you.’ She says all right, so I made her one or two and then showed her how.

"She then made several panfuls and sent them down to Rockland, just outside Camden. Everybody was delighted and they never made doughnuts any other way except the way I showed my mother.

"Well, I never took out a patent on it; I don’t suppose any one can patent anything he discovers; I don’t suppose Peary could patent the north pole or Columbus patent America. But I thought I’d get out a doughnut cutter—but somebody got in ahead of me.

Hole “Cut Out,” His Joke.

"Of course a hole ain’t so much; but it’s the best part of the doughnut—you’d think so if you had ever tasted the doughnuts we used to eat in ‘31. Of course, lots of people joke about the hole in the doughnut. I’ve got a joke myself: Whenever anybody says to me: ‘Where’s the hole in the doughnut?’ I always answer: ‘It’s been cut out!’" and the old chap laughed loud and longat his little sally, while the rest joined in.

So there he sits—in the Snug Harbor by the sea. And whenever there’s doughnuts on the day’s fare, Capt. Gregory takes a personal pride trying to do what nobody’s succeeded in doing yet—in trying to find the hole in the doughnut. And whenever the old salts rally him about it, he always springs his little joke: ”The hole’s been cut out, I guess!” to the delight of the whole shipful.

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stereoculturesociety:

CultureHISTORY: #MikeBrown Funeral - August 2014 

  1. Mike Brown casket w/ St. Louis Cardinals baseball cap
  2. Brown’s mother Lesley McSpadden at her son’s service
  3. Attendees united in song
  4. Funeral attendees
  5. Memorial including long line of roses at Mike Brown’s murder site
  6. A painting & memorial from Atlanta, GA

Reblogged from guardian