Dissident Cobblers

Ominous changes are afoot in the capital of Europe! Here in Belgium, if you buy a car and don't already possess the pair of licence plates that will remain yours for life, the local vehicle registration office will normally issue you with your first licence plate (the rear one, as it happens) by sending it to you through the post. You then have to visit a cobbler and buy the front plate yourself. Apparently, this business represents about 15 percent of Belgian cobblers' overall turnover. It may not have made the world news headlines, but, shockingly, it seems that the days of this time-honoured tradition may be numbered: According to a recent news report, Belgian cobblers are "in uproar about a proposed reform of the way licence plates are issued". Under the proposed reform, "new EU-style licence plates issued from July 2010 would be sent out in pairs" by the licensing authority (emphasis mine). It just so happens that I neither own nor drive a car. But this news does prompt me to ask: What next? Will holding the number of the Beast soon become a punishable offence in the new Europe? Now, that really would be an unexpected turn of events, wouldn't it? I don't think it's likely to happen. But, then again, I've been wrong before.

In case you were wondering, ...

I was flattered that Paul, a regular contributor to Ambassador Watch and Shadows of WCG, was the first visitor to post a comment on this blog, and also that he was moved to say, “I dig your look!”. As my Blogger profile now incorporates a different photo, I thought I’d post here, for future reference, the original picture that inspired Paul’s comment, together with a few words about the background, just in case anybody was wondering.

When I was still relatively new to Brussels, I was walking along Avenue de Tervueren one evening [yes, the name of the avenue really is spelt like that, unlike that of the eponymous town, Tervuren], when I was struck (figuratively) by the registration plate of a parked car. This was some months before the introduction of the euro. From my youth upwards, I had been familiar with the school of prophetic interpretation which holds that the “beast” described in the book of Revelation should be understood as referring to an economic and political superstate taking shape in Europe that will ultimately constitute the “final resurrection” of the Holy Roman Empire. And I had also read an article explaining how the European Article Number (EAN) barcode system – by its own criteria, no less! – actually bears the number of the said beast, namely 666. Thus, I found the symbolism of this number plate, here in what would soon officially be designated as the capital of Europe, quite interesting, to say the least. Why me? Why now? Why here? Could this all be mere COINCIDENCE? (You bet it could, but we’ll talk about that some other time.)

The next morning, and for weeks and months after the incident, I found myself wishing I’d had a camera with me at the time. I was confident that my experience was not (solely) attributable to the effects of Belgian beer. But, as time went on, I still hadn’t seen so much as one single vehicle with a registration plate consisting of three numbers followed by the letters “EURO”, let alone the memorable combination 666 EURO.

And then one day, near the Montgomery roundabout, suddenly I saw it: a vehicle (I think it was a 4x4, but at any rate I’m sure it had four wheels) with that “magic” number plate! By another amazing coincidence, again I didn’t have a camera with me. So I commissioned a similar-looking objet d’art instead. Those were the days when I was on the speaking schedule (let the reader understand), so I leave the rest to your imagination.

And what of the interpretation of the blindfold? A zealous desire to see no evil? A veiled allusion to the blind leading the blind? Sorry to disappoint you, but I can’t actually remember what prompted me to don that particular fashion accessory for the impromptu portrait session a couple of years ago. But two points are probably worth making in conclusion: (1) My wife has a good sense of humour; (2) The (now irreplaceable) Swissair eyemask in question is a souvenir from our first transatlantic flight in February 2001 when we visited New York City, Indianapolis and Washington DC in connection with a book launch. Tune in again soon for the next exciting instal[l]ment.

Welcome!

And greetings from the capital of Europe! I’ve been here in the heart of the country that invented Surrealism since All Fools’ Day 1998, and I’ve always felt right at home here. As a student, I wrote a treatise in German on the subject of “Laughter” (which has since, tragically, disappeared without trace). In those heady days in the late 1970s and early 1980s, I also started writing a song with the working title “Square Peg In A Round Hole”. My precocious interest in offshoring began in the mid 1960s when, at the age of 8, I became an avid listener to certain radio stations moored just outside British territorial waters. I wasn’t a fan of pop music at the time, but I used to tune in regularly to hear a dynamic American religious broadcaster called Garner Ted Armstrong talking about the Bible and "The World Tomorrow". If you’re thinking, “You couldn’t make this stuff up!”, you’ve probably got the picture – if not the T-shirt. For me, this blog marks the latest sortie on a fascinating personal voyage of discovery, and I’ll be more than happy to share the experience with any fellow-travellers who’d care to join me. So welcome on board – and enjoy the journey!