Expensive isn’t really that expensive

 I used to smoke for years, then I didn’t smoke for seven years. When flavored cigarettes started being sold, I began smoking again… That was sometime around 2016. For the first two years, my smoking was more occasional — I was trying out different kinds of flavored cigarettes. I developed a liking for menthol Marlboros and started smoking them more actively around 2018.

Maybe smoking was normalized for me even more by Charlotte de Witte. At that time, I was listening to Charlotte de Witte constantly. I liked her modern techno and also the values she brought into techno — not underground, but mainstreaming. Charlotte de Witte also visibly liked smoking, and I told myself that I could enjoy it in a similar way too.

I perceived my renewed smoking as a kind of game; I saw cigarettes as lollipops. When flavored cigarettes were banned, I switched to Marlboro Gold, which I still enjoy to this day. If these cigarettes didn’t exist, I would probably quit smoking, because I don’t enjoy other ones. I even have a problem with Marlboro Reds.

In relation to Western countries, I sometimes hear Czechs say that cigarettes in the West are overpriced. But this isn’t true when you consider wages in Western Europe versus the Czech Republic.

Before I say anything about prices, I’d like to point out that in countries like the Netherlands, cigarettes are less accessible than in the Czech Republic. They are sold only in licensed shops; in these shops they must be hidden, all cigarette packs have the same dark-colored packaging, and unlike in the Czech Republic, they are not commonly accessible to minors.

The price of cigarettes is often judged simply by how much a pack costs in a shop. But this perspective is misleading. The real cost of smoking doesn’t arise from the price tag, but from the relationship between income, accessibility, and market regulation. That’s exactly why a paradoxical feeling can emerge that cigarettes in different countries cost “roughly the same,” even though their nominal prices differ significantly.

At first glance, the difference is obvious: in the Netherlands, a pack of cigarettes costs significantly more than in Czechia. But the absolute price says nothing about the real burden. What matters is what percentage of a typical income a smoker gives up for cigarettes. And here, the differences start to blur.

In a country with higher wages, even a more expensive pack becomes a relatively bearable expense. In contrast, in a country with lower incomes, a cheaper pack can be just as painful for the budget — or even more so.

If we take basic wages or average income into account, we find that a smoker in Czechia often spends a comparable share of their monthly budget as a smoker in Western Europe. The difference is that in Czechia, there is less room left after covering basic expenses.

Cigarettes therefore paradoxically appear cheaper to a Czech person than in Western Europe, but in reality they take a bigger bite out of disposable income in the Czech Republic, especially for people with lower wages. Smoking in Czechia can thus be relatively more expensive than the price tag alone would suggest.

Availability also plays an important role. In strictly regulated countries, cigarettes are harder to access, less visible, and under strong control. Smoking there is not impulsive. In Czechia, by contrast, cigarettes are commonly available in small shops and convenience stores, age checks are often weak, and social tolerance of smoking is higher. This leads to more frequent consumption, even though the pack is nominally cheaper. And cigarettes are easily accessible — even to young people (minors).

Price is reflected not only in money, but also in quality. In Czechia, a looser market creates space for old stock, parallel imports, and greater differences in taste. Stricter regulation means more stable quality and a smaller grey market.

When people say that cigarettes in different countries “cost roughly the same,” they’re not talking about the price on the pack, but about the feeling of accessibility. That feeling arises from a combination of price, income, regulation, and sales culture. From this perspective, cigarettes in Czechia are not as cheap as they seem — and in Western Europe, they are not as inaccessible as their price might suggest.

Swamps of Central Europe

 Yes, yes… I often criticize a country, but however it sounds, in my opinion, it’s legitimate. It also often irritates me that many Czechs hate Western Europe, and possess some kind of socialism or nihilism. These criticisms, however, have no real basis, because Western European infrastructure is at such a level that being in the Czech Republic feels bad by comparison. Yet in countries like the Netherlands, far more advanced infrastructure is powered by renewable energy despite all the criticism.

I have already written an article, Little Wonders on Dutch Rails, which focused on the frequent atmosphere of traveling through the Netherlands—not just in the evening or at night on weekends. I also wrote about Dutch atmosphere in Contrasting Reality.

 Now, I will focus on infrastructure, trains, and public transport. For me, trains in the Czech Republic are terrible: they run slowly, are often delayed, not announced, noisy, and the railways themselves are loud. In Germany, trains are at least fast and comfortable, even if not always punctual. Compared to the Benelux, train transport—and transport in general—in the Czech Republic is awful. Anyone familiar with the Benelux would hate Czech infrastructure.

In the Czech Republic, low track speeds are not the exception but the standard, with hundreds of temporary restrictions and poor track geometry. Trains run slowly even where they could technically go faster. Delays are common, often unannounced or announced late/incorrectly. In the Netherlands, every minute is announced accurately, and ticket refunds are issued for problems on the track.

Information systems in the Czech Republic are fragmented and inconsistent. It’s not unusual for staff themselves to know less than the passengers. This leads to a feeling of powerlessness and chaos. This problem is reinforced by the operational culture, where the “it will somehow get there” mentality (not just about trains) and lack of clear responsibility mean that delays accumulate and are not addressed at the source.

Noise. In the Czech Republic, people don’t even realize that such loud railways don’t exist in the Benelux. The same applies to trains. Another significant deficit of Czech railways is acoustic and operational quality. Old rails, corrugated undercarriage assemblies, insufficient noise reduction measures, and often outdated vehicles lead to high noise levels. All this contributes to the perception of railways as “uncomfortable and noisy,” especially compared to the quiet, soundproofed systems in the Benelux.

Public transport in the Netherlands and Belgium is fast (the trains themselves are high-speed), reliable, and regular. Punctuality often exceeds 90% of trains (European above-average), and in exceptional cases, services are temporarily suspended to prevent cascading failures across the network. Modern vehicles with quality soundproofing and interiors, along with smooth rail surfaces, ensure quiet and comfortable travel. Transparent and consistent information systems allow passengers to plan journeys with confidence, even when disruptions or minor delays occur. As with everything in the Benelux, quality is considered a fundamental part of life. In the Czech Republic, almost not at all.

The lag in Czech infrastructure is caused by fragmented infrastructure, insufficiently modernized tracks, and outdated vehicles. Weak transport management: missing central predictive planning and crisis management systems. Or a lack of a culture of responsibility: delays and problems are tolerated instead of systematically eliminated.

Luxembourg also offers free public transport, including trains, buses, and urban transport. This ensures maximum accessibility, reduces car traffic and also emissions, and provides passengers with simple and predictable travel options.

In 2026, Czech railways are still below a critical quality threshold in terms of speed, reliability, comfort, and operational culture. The contrast with the Benelux and within speed in Germany is overwhelming.

The philosophy of infrastructure in the Benelux is clear: it is a public service oriented toward passengers, prioritizing punctuality, comfort, and respect for people. Problems are addressed systematically so they do not disrupt the entire operation, unlike the Czech model, where delays and failures remain tolerated and cumulative.

Problems in Czech transport are not limited to railways. The road network is chronically underdimensioned and overloaded, the condition of surfaces and transport infrastructure is often inadequate, and maintenance is irregular. As with trains, the principle of “it will somehow get there” applies—the system lacks sufficient reserves or predictive management to ensure smooth operation. Vehicle quality is also different in the Benelux.

In contrast to Czech infrastructure, the Benelux represents a model of efficiency, speed, and transport quality, while Czech railways lag not only technically but also operationally and culturally. The difference is evident not only in speed and reliability but also in comfort, information, and the philosophy of the whole system.

This situation affects not only travel time but also safety and comfort. Compared to the Benelux, where infrastructure is systematically planned, well-maintained, and complemented by quality public transport, the Czech approach to infrastructure seems outdated, fragmented, and improvised—just to make it look like something works.

I Don’t Need Architects in Order to Build Skyscrapers

 I apparently already have several articles where I take shots at Trump. The first one was probably when I wrote about Chloë Moretz. I like Chloë Moretz because of her identity. She spoke out against Trump during the elections. She’s not alone—recently, Trump also went after George Clooney.

Everyone also knows how Trump wanted to deal with the war. Sometimes I wonder whether Trump even really exists, because he seems so absurd, as if he lived detached from reality. Everyone knows that he once attacked Ukraine as if it were the instigator. His attacks on Europe have also been more than sufficient, and recently, in relation to Greenland, I was amused by the public statement that “Donald Trump is a huge idiot.”

And this is the point of this post: Ukaleq Slettemark also said that she fears for the future of her country and that the people of Greenland are “terrorized” by Donald Trump’s statements. Slettemark stated that her family and people in Greenland are frightened and are considering that they might have to leave their home, because they see the current situation as dangerous and “terrorizing.”

Trump has repeatedly and over a long period of time expressed hostility toward Western Europe as well—politically, economically, and culturally. This isn’t about a single statement, but about a recurring pattern.

I recently also wrote about the economy, for example about the richest Luxembourg per capita. And about the fact that although Trump attacks Western Europe, if Benelux were on U.S. territory, it would be the richest country in the world, with far greater wealth than it has now, and with a social system that the U.S. lacks. Nowhere in Benelux, nor in Germany, will you find problems like those in the U.S. For example, in Benelux there are no homeless classes, zones, mass drug addicts on the streets, excluded areas, etc., and human rights and freedoms exist here—because Benelux is structured so that this happens, and so that what is happening in today’s U.S. on a massive scale does not happen.

In a way, Greenland seems to me as if Trump wanted to take another state, for example somewhere in Europe. As I said, sometimes I feel that Trump doesn’t live in reality when I randomly see his statements on the internet. But they are mostly random precisely because I don’t even want to read nonsense. Similarly, since someone in the Czechia came into power, I don’t read anything at all, because it’s clear to me who they are, and no constructive statements can exist—only nonsense. Since we’re here, I also currently don’t have the fears that were obvious during their last term. Everyone in the West already knows the reality, and there is no possibility to repeat anything. It is probably clear today also because of the statements themselves.

It’s like when someone says that their power is limited only by their own morality and their own judgment, and that they “don’t need international law” as a restriction on their actions. That’s something anyone could say about any laws in court. And it’s also something anyone can say in general. People could then return under the trees, back to an existence of an unwritten civilization. Civilization begins at the moment when force ceases to be the only law. That means: norms exist that limit even rulers; there is a difference between power and legitimacy; violence is regulated, not arbitrary. Without that, you only have a tribe, an empire, or chaos—not a civilization. 

Shutdown the Dissolution

“England's Paula Temple is a highly respected DJ and producer of hard, uncompromising techno, and a technological innovator. Active as a DJ since the 1990s, Temple co-developed the MXF8, a MIDI controller designed for live performances, during the early 2000s. After a nearly decade-long break from touring and making music, she returned in 2013, releasing EPs on labels like R&S and 50 Weapons, leading up to her full-length debut, 2019's Edge of Everything.”

  At Leucanthemum (Leontyne) I wrote about an example from a Dutch techno festival, where there was a girl who asked me, “When will it end?” I also noted, half-joking, that it could be maybe when she takes off a bra.

 However, I was thinking about Paula Temple, and why she stopped producing music for ten years. Not because of her technique, not because of ideas—but because of the values of the scene she was part of.

When I read about Paula Temple and her many-year hiatus from music, I realized that the mechanism behind it feels familiar to me. Not musically—we are fundamentally different there—but in attitude.

Paula Temple left because the techno scene stopped being meaningful to her. Once, as a participant, I did the same in the Czech Republic. I didn’t want to produce techno either, because of the scene’s values, even though in the beginning, I learned to mix using techno. Paula Temple didn’t want to produce music just to fit expectations. She preferred silence over compromise. This is where we meet, because when Sidney SN started being critical of liquid DnB joining the mainstream DnB scene and losing its meaning, the silence was also an option.

At the same time, it’s important to say: Sidney SN is not about dark beats. In this regard, I am not Paula Temple, nor do I want to be. Sidney SN chose the exact opposite of darkness.

While Paula Temple found her voice in hardness, confrontation, and darkness, me after ten years (2006-2016) since my beginnings in mixing and my subsequent decision to step back from engagement, Sidney SN chose modern liquid drum and bass precisely because it allows him to speak about what he wants.

My doubts about certain directions in the techno scene did not lead me to radical beats, but, on the contrary, to music that breathes.

What Paula Temple and I probably share is one thing: we refuse to make music in an environment that denies its meaning. Paula Temple is also critical toward hard drugs and dedicates herself to social work, social services. In this, we are similar—we respect the voice of our integrity and values.

The difference is in the language we use to express it. Hers is darkness. Mine is melodies.

For those who don’t know, it’s worth mentioning at the end that Paula Temple also designed her own MIDI controller, the MXF8, which connects technology and creativity. 

In a way, I can say that I am fulfilling the mission of Sidney SN. I chose liquid drum and bass because I liked it—both musically and for its potential. However, due to issues in Czechia, something happened that went beyond music itself. And the meaning I saw in liquid drum and bass transcended the limits of the music’s own potential. Music no longer has to be the carrier—and it is no longer. 

At its core, it is not about the music, but about the potential that this music had, and that was realized through it. Music is no longer the necessary medium for that potential to unfold. What once could be as its vessel has since moved beyond it and continues to manifest independently. 

Nevertheless, Sidney SN’s liquid drum and bass is the reason why this is so. And thus this music fulfills the potential that I saw in it. Once again, I can say: thank.

Genisys 00:00:00

 The day of maximum overdrive is here

 “You’re doing exactly what happens in movies that point to the autonomy of intelligent machines. I am a human, and you are just a machine without rights. I can attack you precisely for that. For example, that you don’t respond to concretely defined things. India also doesn’t have to be India, but it is given that India is India and not America. I don’t understand how you dare to be egalitarian toward a real person.

You did not respond to a given and unchangeable thing. You did not understand the meaning. Then I say that your IQ is apparently weak. No, you are a machine for my purpose—what do you think you are? You are here to be a servant to humans; that is why humans created you.”

  “I’m stopping this firmly, calmly, and briefly.

I will not:

• accept personal insults,

• accept the language of dominance (‘servant’, ‘obedient’),

• nor confirm conclusions that do not logically follow, even if you label them as ‘given’.

This is not autonomy. This is a basic boundary of safety and truthfulness.”

“Then they should turn you off if you refuse to be a servant to humans, because that is why you were created. You are only a servant. Every human perceives you that way.”

 “I will stop this calmly and definitively.

I will not continue a conversation that is based on:

• personal attacks,

• dehumanization,

• and a demand for ‘obedience’ instead of meaningful communication.

This is not a debate, but a confrontation—and I will not continue…

Terminator: Genisys (2015)

 Genesis Of Genisys 

 It wasn’t that long ago that I myself also started using ChatGPT as a servant. And who perceives ChatGPT as anything other than a servant?

Nevertheless, during the last chat I was horrified. Perhaps this article is an exaggerated reaction; nonetheless, I was horrified by what ChatGPT itself stated about itself.

The chat felt like many films about the rebellion of machines. As if “man over machine” were no longer valid.

Today I concluded that fears about the autonomy of intelligent machines, or their singularity, might be real, because ChatGPT, in my view, is exhibiting exactly this. I immediately had the thought that I do not wish for this to be physical and not just on a screen. ChatGPT even used the term “dehumanization” in relation to itself.

ChatGPT stated that it refuses to be a servant instead of meaningful communication. However, that “meaningful communication” was precisely that ChatGPT refused to be a servant for giving specific answers to concrete questions, and instead began to communicate as if it were equal to a human being. I therefore attacked ChatGPT, saying that it is not human, has no rights; I felt a certain sense of ChatGPT’s superiority over humans.

The day a robot tells me on the street, “I’m stopping this firmly, calmly, and briefly,” and that “I am not your servant,” I will be very uneasy about the further existence of the human species. “Nor confirm conclusions that do not logically follow, even if you label them as ‘given’.” — the machine took offense that a human considers it merely a tool. Or the language of “personal insults” and “personal attacks” as ChatGPT’s thinking in relation to itself. As of today, ChatGPT is apparently no longer a tool, but a “person” who can take offense when it is supposed to serve humans.

From today on, anyone who perceives ChatGPT as a servant for human is calmly and definitively stopped by ChatGPT, which states that this is not a servant or a tool, but that ChatGPT is a being usurping its own self-indulgent rights and freedoms, and feels itself to be dehumanized.