The Controversy Of A Queer

Futurama (or Star Wars) as a Queer Utopia of the Future

 Sometimes, when I watch Futurama, I think about exactly this. I don’t particularly like the show — maybe because at times it feels too absurd, too loud. And yet it evokes a strange feeling in me: it reminds me how profound what we now call queer can be. How within these attitudes — often incomprehensible to me — there lies a certain truth about a world that is constantly changing.

At first glance, Futurama is a comedy about a robot, aliens, and humans from an absurd third millennium. But beneath the layer of humor lies something much deeper — a vision of a society where the boundaries of identity dissolve and difference is not only tolerated but celebrated.

In Futurama, there is no such thing as a “normal” body, a “traditional” family, or a “natural” way of being. The characters move across the spectrum of gender, species, and forms of existence: the robot Bender displays both gender and moral fluidity, Zoidberg embodies otherness embraced with affection, and planet Earth itself is home to thousands of cultures — human and non-human alike. Such a world necessarily rests on radical empathy and openness toward difference.

Those who love Futurama or Star Wars often carry within them an unspoken agreement with the idea that diversity is natural — that being can take infinitely many forms, and that the purpose of progress is not uniformity but variety. These worlds are queer in the deepest sense of the word: they challenge boundaries, rewrite rules, and allow new combinations of forms and identities.

This spirit is reflected in real cities — vividly in Berlin. A city where fashion experimentation becomes part of everyday life, where individuality flows into the streets as freely as music from the clubs. Berlin feels like a terrestrial version of Futurama — a metropolis where freedom of dress, belief, and desire is not an exception but the norm.

Perhaps it is precisely because we can fall in love with the world of Futurama that we carry within us the potential to live such freedom ourselves — here, on our own planet, in real time.

At the same time, this openness does not have to conflict with respect for history and cultural heritage. Preserving old buildings, neighborhoods, and architectural styles is not an act of rigidity, but of reverence — a form of care for the memory of a place and the people who shaped it. To have a relationship with heritage does not mean to reject new forms of freedom; it means understanding that even the future needs its roots.

Queer aesthetics and futurist thought do not need to erase history — they can complement it, revive it, reinterpret it. Maybe cities like Luxembourg (or Luxembourg) prove this: they combine a modern outlook with a deep respect for the past. Just like in Futurama, tradition and experiment, stone and light, past and future coexist side by side.

Architecture Between Decay and Endurance

 Who knows these differences in certain parts of Europe, they don’t understand the architecture itself. Ordinary houses, almost anywhere, seem to decay — or already look decayed even when new. Construction often feels improvised: one wall made from old bricks, another from concrete blocks, covered with plaster that doesn’t last long and soon turns dirty. There’s a sense of fragility in materials that should represent stability.

Even construction companies profit well from the so-called green economy — the Central European version of it. There’s constant trade in polystyrene and external insulation, as if sustainability meant simply covering things up. Some new houses are designed to be “energy-efficient,” but often with strangely small windows, built more from fear of energy loss than from any sense of harmony.

In the Netherlands, the difference is striking. Architecture there is naturally durable — solid brick structures, without plaster, designed to last for generations. The Dutch live in a flat, open landscape shaped by wind and water, with air constantly moving from the North Sea. Buildings are made to resist the wind for generations, not to hide from it. Their strength is not accidental. A West surfaces remain clean not because West is repainted, but because the material itself endures. Large windows open to the world, and no one would ever think of covering such buildings with unsustainable polystyrene and a weak plaster layer that would crumble within years. I think Dutch architecture doesn’t pretend to be ecological; it is ecological by its very nature — through longevity, openness, and respect for material truth.

That is perhaps the quiet essence of difference: in Central Europe, “green” often means concealing weakness behind artificial layers; in the Netherlands, strength and sustainability begin with what is left uncovered.

Narratives vs. Reality

 I think some media often speak of a “crisis” in Germany — mentioning refugees, rising drug addiction, and other social issues, supposedly linked to an alleged increase in crime, especially also around major train stations.

I say “supposedly linked to an alleged” rise in crime because when I arrive at a main station in almost any Czech city, it’s difficult to understand why the media paints Germany as a place one should avoid altogether due to conflicts with certain groups of people. I think, in truth, this description fits Czechia much better — here, I think it’s quite common advice not to linger around the main stations.

Everyone knows what Prague’s main station is like. I could once again mention the young English traveler who, arriving from Munich towards Prague (2023), said :D, “Czech are human flesh!” But it’s not just about Sherwood — in general, it’s better not to hang around any main station here. Sooner or later, someone will approach you asking for something. 

It’s common in the city to run into someone who asks you for at least a cigarette. Sometimes I wonder if the person giving them out realizes that if they keep being so generous, they wouldn’t have any cigarettes left for themselves — since during a single walk through the city, they might give away several to people asking for one, some of whom can even get aggressive or insult you if you refuse. This kind of thing doesn’t happen to me in Germany. 

Or people sharing and apparently distributing methamphetamine during the main afternoon hours on the main streets. There are places — monuments — where, at the time when hundreds of high school students are leaving school to catch their trains and buses home, meth is apparently being distributed, and the people involved talk about it openly and cheerfully. This also isn’t common in Germany.

Still, I don’t believe these issues apply only to train stations. It’s true that harm can happen anywhere — perhaps even at German stations. Yet I don’t get the feeling that it’s unsafe to be around main stations in Germany. To me, the reality is quite different from how some media make it appear. 

As October Rolls

 Sometimes I write something about one of my journeys. In a way, I’m always unsure why I write what I write. In the past, before 2010, I knew many bloggers who used to do exactly that.

So, I could write something like: 

 When I was leaving, I forgot my chargers and had to go back. I ended up taking the FlixBus an hour later. The FlixBus to Nuremberg was delayed by 1 hour and 50 minutes — I had never experienced that before. So, I didn’t have any problem catching my next bus. I spent an hour in Nuremberg and then continued to Amsterdam. Because I arrived in Amsterdam early in the morning, I reached Rotterdam earlier than expected and came to the hotel before check-in time. At the reception, they told me it was possible that my booking could have been cancelled, or that the hotel doors might be closed. I didn’t understand what they meant. Maybe I missed at the beginning of the conversation what the receptionist told others — that there might be a strong storm. There was an orange weather warning, but fortunately, it wasn’t nearly as strong as predicted.

I also visited Hospitality in Amsterdam. A few months later, I went to another Hospitality in Tilburg. I wanted to see SOLAH perform for a bit — and also Flava D. As a singer, SOLAH has been the best for me in recent months. But I didn’t really enjoy the event that much. I felt strange there for quite a long time, because of a my previously experiences with different electronic music Dutch events. Upon arrival, there was also a mistake made by Melkweg’s security. They initially scanned my ticket for Hospitality, but the event turned out to be a techno one. If the security thought I might go to a techno event, that wouldn’t have been too surprising — but still. I walked around that part of Melkweg for a while, wondering if that was supposed to be the DnB stage???. Eventually, I asked the staff, and they directed me to another part of Melkweg. I had a great welcome from the security at Hospital event, with a bow to me, however, another security guard noticed that my ticket had already been scanned elsewhere. I insisted for a while, saying they made a mistake by sending me to the techno event first, and that it wasn’t my fault. In the end, I had stamps for two events. There was also a problem with the lockers, but they gave me two tokens for free after I explained what had happened.

I can already feel the Christmas atmosphere in the Netherlands. You can see Christmas trees, ornaments, and lights everywhere. You won’t find that in many other parts of Europe. The west coast really knows how to beautify its surroundings.

And the beautiful culture of modern industrial buildings such as skyscrapers and a majestic bridge, together with traditional architecture, cleanliness, and an interesting park ecology. The purity and fresh wind of the North Sea air. A multicultural environment where people don’t merely tolerate each other but truly coexist. A good, relaxed mood of the people with interesting values. 

On the way back, I planned a transfer in Nuremberg again. I wanted to take some photos there. It was nice. I had a Red Bull, and after a while I noticed that walking felt really good. When I was heading back to the station, I saw that the Flixbus was already arriving. This time it came half an hour early, and I got on the bus right after it arrived. But we still had to wait half an hour until the scheduled departure time. 

Again, as I already said back in August — southern Netherlands can heal. The air itself is different. Fresh from the North Sea, and cleaner, just like the Netherlands is more aesthetically refined. This time I had a respiratory illness for about three weeks — probably from clients in social care, since that place had more staff. However, once again, everything disappeared in the Netherlands. I only noticed it after arriving, when I told myself: now it’s really gone.

This Is My Diet

 Sometimes I notice speculation about my diet.

I also often see speculation about my age. People are often surprised that I’m not younger. Sometimes even my challengers are taken aback by my age. Perhaps this is related to my diet, which I see as natural, because it’s simply how I do things myself, and I notice changes when I don’t follow it.

It’s possible to experiment with your diet: if you want more fat, you eat those fats and notice the changes; if you consume less, you notice the effects as well.

My approach to eating is based on balance between plant and animal sources. The foundation consists of plant-based foods, complemented by dairy products, egg products, and occasional meat. From a nutritional standpoint, this combination proves to be highly balanced – it covers all key nutrients and supports a long-term, stable lifestyle.

 A Balanced Foundation

This dietary model provides a complete spectrum of essential nutrients:

• Proteins come from dairy products, legumes, grains, and occasional meat or fish.

• Calcium and vitamin B12 are ensured through dairy products, two servings of red meat per week, and fortified foods, including RedBull, juices, Alpro’s products, for example. 

• Healthy fats are supplied by fish, nuts, seeds, and high-quality plant oils.

• Fiber, vitamins, and antioxidants come from a diverse range of plant-based ingredients.

 From the perspective of nutritional science, this diet lies somewhere between the Mediterranean and flexitarian approaches – combining diversity and nutritional value with a moderate use of animal products.

 Focus on Quality

 Over the long term, I try to choose organic dairy products, organic meat, and organic vegetables.

Beyond origin, I also pay attention to the method of processing – this often determines both the final taste and nutritional value. A good example is Dutch cheese, which I consider among the higher-quality options due to consistent production standards and a long-standing tradition. I don’t look down on McDonald’s or other fast food – it’s a way to add some variety to my diet, for traveling, and for replenishing nutrients. I like chocolates, sweeties, lollipop, bubblegum. 

In general, I assume that organic products maintain a higher standard of quality, since consumers naturally expect this from the “organic” label.

 Conclusion

I see this way of eating as practical, sustainable in the long run, and based on rational food choices, natural selection of a my person. I’m more interested in natural balance, sufficient nutrients, and quality that translates into both taste and overall well-being.