Pandemic Blog

We hope students and staff will sent short or long pieces for the pandemic blog. Any topic is possible, from being depressed alone in your room to the beauty of the last lecture you attended. Last blog first.


by Tim Reeskens – department of Sociology

Apparently, it has been one of my running gags. Shout the word ‘bitterbal’ on campus, and people involved with Sociology in Tilburg will associate it with me. So, in this little essay, I would like to elaborate on what makes the perfect ‘bitterbal’. While writing, I need to admit that these unprecedented times of practicing physical/social distancing to deal with covid-19 has changed my perspective on the ideal ‘bitterbal’ drastically, and reshuffled my understanding of what makes it perfect. To have a good understanding of this final, most secret ingredient, you first need to digest its culinary body.

For foreigners, and for the time being, that includes me too, my original stance towards the ‘bitterbal’ was ambivalent. This ambivalence already starts from the fact that it is extremely difficult to come up with an English translation. I always describe it as a ‘crunchy meatball’. When I was young, I never had an appetite for it. The first reason is pretty obvious: a ‘bitterbal’ is a snack that goes well with beer (that’s where the name ‘bitter’-bal is coming from: it’s a snack that you drink with a ‘bittertje’, i.e. a liquor). But in Belgium, many bars don’t serve ‘bitterballen’ as a snack while drinking (they mostly go for peanuts or cheese cubes). In the second place, it also didn’t appeal to me when ordering food from the snack bar. Its big brother – de ‘kroket’ (croquet) – is a popular option in Belgian snackbars, but it looked extremely gross to me because of the feature that makes it so unique: the filling.

However, once crossed the border, the ‘bitterbal’ became part of my identity. While Queen Maxima might, as you might recall her 2007 speech, have argued that something like the Dutchman doesn’t exist, some features allow you to identify as one more easily than others. Think for instance about not having a glass of alcohol during a fancy lunch (it took a while) but having milk instead (ain’t gonna happen). Because also the strong G (‘harde G’) is impossible to achieve, showing some love for the ‘bitterbal’ is a pretty good alternative. But let’s face it, some ‘bitterballen’ deserve more love than others. On campus, it’s even possible to find the two opposite at the same place. Espla serves the traditional ‘bitterbal’, as well as a more culinary ‘bourgondy’ one. So, what makes that the latter reaches perfection more easily than the former one?

First of all, gradually dissecting the perfect ‘bitterbal’ starts from the outside: its crunchy layer. This layer is achieved by rolling it through breadcrumbs or ‘paneermeel’ in Dutch. However, in my understanding, the word breadcrumbs don’t do good justice to its Dutch equivalent ‘paneermeel’, because the English for ‘meel’ is ‘flour’. This is also the biggest misunderstanding: a good ‘bitterbal’ is not covered by ‘paneermeel’ but by panko, a Japanese-style breadcrumb that has a more flaky texture. A layer of traditional ‘paneermeel’ breadcrumbs allows the ‘bitterbal’ to be deep-fried. However, it is a flaky panko breadcrumbs layer that gives a ‘bitterbal’ a good crunch.

Second, after biting through that perfect crunchy layer, a good ‘bitterbal’ requires to take it slow, otherwise you get burned (literally, this time). Indeed, a good ‘bitterbal’ comes straight out of the fryer to the plate. As we all have experienced, it simply happens that bars are crowded, and that your plate takes some time to be delivered. The experience of enjoying a ‘bitterbal’ is not the same if your mouth’s palate is not on fire after a first bite.

Third, now we go to the essence: the magic! It’s magic, because it is so hard to explain to non-Dutchies what it actually is. It is meat, but also not. It is a thick sauce, but also not. For many ‘bitterbal’-producing companies, the filling of the ‘bitterbal’ is as unique as is the recipe of Coca-Cola. Cut things short, the filling is a combination of beef meat (yes, meat), stock (made from the beef meat), roux (a combination between butter and flour), cooking cream, gelatin to bind everything together, and herbs and spices. Be careful, each of these ingredients can mess up your ‘bitterbal’. Quality ingredients are important in this, as well as the perfect amount of meat (not too much, but at the same time, the meat should still be distinguishable). People who cook know that making a roux requires skills (it should smell like baked cookies before you add the stock). And importantly, don’t neglect the herbs added to the filling. According to my taste-buds, some parsley should be present, as well as some grounded black pepper.

Last but not least, one final ingredient is not present on the inside, but on the outside. ‘Bitterballen’ are served with mustard. Admittedly, I’m not a big fan of mustard that is too strong, because it simply opens up my holes a little bit too much than is enjoyable. But also here, there are differences across bars in the brand and spiciness of mustard that is served. Anyway, mustard is not a dealbreaker for ‘bitterballen’ (at least it’s not to me), but it should balance well with the snack.

The combination of all these ingredients and features might make a good ‘bitterbal’. However, as promised in the introduction, one secret ingredient distinguishes a good ‘bitterbal’ from a perfect one. That ingredient is: good company! It is quite surreal, but amidst this covid-19 crisis, I even know with great detail when and with whom I shared my last dish of ‘bitterballen’. On Monday 24 February, Alanis Morissette (yeah I know, her most famous record “Jagged Little Pill” is older than most of you) played an acoustic set at Royal Theater Carré in Amsterdam. Right before that gig, I bumped into my University of Amsterdam-colleague Tom van der Meer. After the concert, we decided to go for a beer at Bar Lempicka around the corner from Carré. It needs to be said: those bitterballen lived up to the description of what makes a good ‘bitterbal’. But these good ‘bitterballen’ only reached perfection when shared with great company (and, undeniably, with a good glass of beer).

With this final reflection, I’m reaching the end of my exposé about ‘bitterballen’. For sociologists, it are interesting times. Even a seemingly easy contemplation about ‘bitteballen’ resulted in the not so surprising diagnosis that we are social beings that not only require nutrition to function, but also social interactions. As for now, the recommendation to practice physical distancing makes it impossible to truly enjoy a ‘bitterbal’. Having said that, I hope that rather soon than late, I can see you all back on campus again to share some good stories along a glass of beer and a crunchy (the ‘bourgondische’ above the traditional ones) bitterbal at Espla!

(this blog was earlier posted in Versotte Courant 2019/2020 Spring Edition)

Blog 4 – Young and stuck at home: Does “everything happens for a reason” apply?

Emmie Verspeek – master student

I think it is fair to say that COVID-19 has transformed, and still is transforming lots of aspects of our daily lives. The virus was recognized as a global pandemic in March 2020, and induced states of uncertainty, stress and fear. From an evolutionary perspective, fear plays an important role in survival as it helps us make a distinction between safe and threatening situations, and to assess the size of the threat to plan an adequate response. Nevertheless, the responses of herd immunity (fight), and social distancing (flight), haven’t enabled us to make the virus disappear as soon as we would have liked it to.

As students from Tilburg University, we haven’t been able to attend university physically since March 2020. This brings both advantages as well as disadvantages. One of the advantages is being able to attend a lecture at 8:45 a.m. while waking up at 8:00 a.m., or for some students being able to attend a lecture while still half-asleep in bed. Though, for me, that’s as far as the advantages go. Receiving education from behind a screen can be difficult. It is hard to stay focussed, to engage in meaningful discussions, and to get to know your peers. Also, it can be both funny and painfully awkward to watch a professor trying to make a joke, and not receiving any response apart from some “muted” smiles or laughter.

But the impact of COVID-19 goes beyond our educational programmes. Many students work in restaurants, bars or café’s, which have been locked down twice since COVID-19 hit the Netherlands. The first lockdown took from March up until May, and the second from October up until today. Some students were lucky enough to profit from an arrangement that paid them the average of their previously worked hours, while others were left without any financial compensation. I attended a lecture last week about the impact of COVID-19 on youth unemployment, from which the take-away message was: “at least students have more time to focus on their education now”. Well, I am not sure that is how this abundance of time actually works out.

From April 2020 on, I decided to see what I could do with the time that was now left over. This, because I became quite restless from seeing social media posts of people working out daily, making extensive to-do lists, studying extra hours, or finally pursuing that language course. Googling “productivity during COVID-19” resulted in tips and tricks on how to stay productive during the pandemic. I didn’t feel that I was spending my time productively enough in comparison to others. However, I also came to the realization that I could use some time off from studying. Being productive is not something you can be 24/7. I started a new Netflix series to binge-watch, picked up some old hobbies, and decided to spend some more time with my family. I have never been a very firm believer in “everything happens for a reason”, and being able to utter this phrase about a global pandemic illustrates a certain type of privilege. However, I do think that COVID-19 provided an opportunity to re-evaluate the purpose in our lives. Yes, it has been stressful so far. I have experienced several flares up of anxiety, but I also had plenty of time to stand still. This gave me the chance to think about how I spent my time before, and how I would like to spend it in the present and future. Things that I had forgotten about, were considered to be the things that I would like to hold onto tighter in the future. While before I spent most of my time working, studying, and engaging in meaningless social interactions, I now had the time to get my priorities straight by moving hobbies, meaningful social interactions, and sleep up the priority ladder.

The only question that remains is: when will we finally be able to say that we lived through this pandemic? And which lessons will we hold onto once we’ve finally moved on? I keep telling myself that we have endured the worst and longest part of this crisis already. The perspectives of advantage of induced fear from an evolutionary perspective, as well as the belief that “everything happens for a reason” might be long overdue, but there is nothing else we can do but sit through this pandemic and reach out, or hang on, when we get to the end of our ropes. At the end of the day, we’re all still in this together, and if we keep looking out for each other we can make it through towards a brighter future with different priorities, new insights, and, especially as students, a new appreciation for finally getting enough sleep.

Blog 3 – How to deal with internships?

Anna Gabriela Brose – Master student

I was very lucky growing up. My parents were of the opinion that education was the most important thing and deserved my full attention. And so I was able to get through high school and most of University without having to work. I did take a summer job position as a secretary in London during the summer of 2017, but I never had to balance work and school. 

It also made starting an internship especially nerve wracking. So, for all of you who are planning on doing an internship or are already in the process of finding one, here are a few tips. 

Apply to as many internships as possible. 

I cannot tell you how many applications I send out. It must have been close to 150, and honestly the rejections are still trickling in. Very few people will be getting the first (or even one of the first 10) internships they apply for. Don’t take it personally when you get rejected and just keep going. 

Don’t be embarrassed to brag on your CV

I hate it, I hate it. Spending days writing down why I am the best person for this job? Truth be told, I am probably not. Chances are there is someone out there who would do a fantastic job and easily do all the things I struggle with; but I still want this job. 

Send an application even if you don’t think you’ll get the job. 

I started looking for an internship about 2 month before the recommended time and just sent out applications to all those places I would love to work at but who would, with 99% chance, be looking for someone with more experience. Funnily enough, one of those applications actually went out to the very company I am working for now, but after the Interview I got a rejection. Which brings me to #4.

Stay up to date on job opening of companies you like

If you find a company you like, don’t just rely on stumbling across their job opening on secondary websites. Bookmark their very own site and check every few days if they are in need of someone. That is how I got the Job I am in now. After being initially rejected for a different position, I applied again for 3 other positions in the same place and got accepted to one that fit me much better. Persistence pays!

The first few days (or weeks) will be stressful

It took my two weeks to even remotely understand what was happening around me. Maybe it was because of the online environment (Thank you, Covid), but sitting in front of my computer while being explained 6 different topics in full detail by 5 different people per day, was tiring. The first week I was constantly confused and tired. So, if you are feeling overwhelmed, that is normal. Try and listen, make yourself notes and maybe use some of your free time to go over everything you have learned. 

I hope that this gave you at least a bit of help and a bit of hope if you are currently up to your neck in applications. It is a lot of work, I’m not gonna lie. But if you remind yourself why you want an internship (an In into the company, experience for a different job, money, success, passion). Whatever your reason, hold onto it and you will be fine.

Love, Anna

Blog 2

How I divorced in the middle of a pandemic and how being called “a blonde” helped me cope with it

Ioana Pop – Assistant professor department of Sociology

April 2019. I asked for divorce. It took us a year to figure out all the practicalities but at the end of February 2020, my ex-husband moved out of our former family house. I was, for the first time in 12 years, alone. And to understand better what that meant to me, you have to know that being alone is one of my greatest fears. A kind of personal Inferno if you like.

I knew that when I took the decision to divorce. I always felt lonely, even when surrounded by people. Having a partner helped but that feeling of being alone never actually went away. And here I was, deciding to take on the hardest task that I could give to myself: to learn to be alone, in the company of no other than myself, and to be ok with that.

But a divorce is a pretty damaging event for wellbeing [1], even for people who have less issues with being alone. Being a health sociologist, I figured that I have to approach the problem in a scientific way. I knew the research [2]. So, I changed my diet, started to sport so that I can reach the recommended threshold of physical activity, worked on improving the quality of my sleep, started to do new things, and read as much as possible on how to rewire my brain and cultivate new habits. I also followed some courses from our TSB “Positive psychology” master [3] and learned about interventions that promote wellbeing. I started to put them in practice: meditation, yoga, cultivating curiosity, gratitude, kindness, courage and discipline. You name it, I probably did it.

It was rough, but I kind of had it under control. But then, here comes March 2020. Lockdown, in the middle of teaching, while my former husband just moved out and the co-parenting arrangement went into place (meaning, there was a physical separation from my son a couple of days a week. If you are a parent, you will understand the weight of that). As you can imagine, I crashed. Big time. I kept doing all the things that I knew are good for me but nothing seemed to work anymore. And I got more and more angry and frustrated: I was doing all those things, why was it not working? Why did I feel like I can’t get any ground under my feet?  

In the midst of this turmoil, I made a new friend. A wise, charismatic man who also happens to be a very kind person. We’ll call him D. D has this talent of not saying a lot, but that little information that he presents to me resonates with me. Some weeks ago, we played a game. He gave me something to do (join a community on the Quora platform) and I was supposed to do that without questioning his request. If I may add, against my usual: “I am a strong independent woman, I will decide for myself if I want to do something or not. No one is telling me what to do!”. But a game is a game. Still, it so happened that I could not figure out how to do what he asked on my phone. So, I texted back telling him that.

“Are you blonde?”

You know what happens with Coca Cola when you put a Mentos in it? That’s what happened to me. It was good that he was not in range, and this dialog took place via texting. But I did communicate to him how annoyed I was with his comment. He informed me that I lost the game.

“It is not fair. You should have said what the rules are!”.

“Suck it up”.

Now, for the record, D is just as far from being a sexist (insert here whatever other epithet you wish) as the sky is from the earth.

It is not what D said, it was how I reacted to what he said that is relevant to this story. The moment when I said “It is not fair!” I saw myself, trying to do all the right things, be a good parent, and be a good teacher, and colleague, and neighbour, and friend, and daughter and yet, life serving me this! This!

 I didn’t deserve it. It was not fair!

The next image that came to my mind was that of a child. My son. When he is upset that he can’t get what he wants, he has the same reaction: “It’s not fair! I want to watch my cartoons. NOW!” he demands. And while I explain to him that he already watched cartoons for an hour and we already discussed and decided that we will go after that outside to play, he can’t handle not getting what he wants. So, he usually throws a tantrum and declares that he is not hungry, he doesn’t want to play, life is unfair and the only thing that can make him happy is watching his cartoons.

So here I was, a 43 years old woman throwing a tantrum, and seeing clearly how I was behaving just like my 3 years old son. I started to laugh. I was so captivated by the idea of how life should be, how it should accommodate me so I can be happy, that I could not see any other possibility to be happy.  I could not conceive that any other way of being could bring me any kind of pleasure, just like Michel can’t see past his immediate desire to watch his cartoons.

“Suck it up”.

Right. Easy to say, but how should I do that?

I figured, if I am reacting like a child, how about I handle myself like one? When Michel refuses to go outside because he wants to watch his cartoons, what do I do?  I present him choices. “Do you want to wear the rainboots or the regular shoes? If you get the rainboots, you can jump through the puddles outside. If you get the regular shoes, you have to walk around them.”

Not surprisingly, he wants to wear his rainboots.

“That’s a very good choice. Should mommy also wear her rainboots, and we can jump together?” Oh! Now things are getting more interesting for him, he likes the idea of jumping through puddles with his mother. “And then we can go to the trampoline and jump on it together!” OOOOH! Now that image makes his eyes sparkle!

When you cannot change the circumstances, all we can do is to change our perception of them [4]. No, what happens is not fair. It is not fair that our lives were turned upside down. That the systems and routines that allowed us to maintain our wellbeing were taken away from us. But maybe we can get our rainboots on, and go outside and jump in some puddles. And then we can go to the playground and jump on the trampoline. And if it starts raining, we can open our umbrellas and relish in the knowledge that we will have more puddles to jump in. Maybe we can learn to have a bit of fun until the sky will clear up.

[1] Mandemakers, J. J., Monden, C. W. S., & Kalmijn, M. (2010). Are the effects of divorce on psychological distress modified by family background? Advances in Life Course Research, 15(1), 27-40. doi:

[2] Ilardi, S. (2010). The Depression Cure: The 6-Step Program to Beat Depression Without Drugs. US: Ingram Publisher Services.




Who’s zooming who? (Franklin, 1995) Reflections on virtual teaching

Bram Peper – Lecturer department of Sociology

More than 25 years ago Barry Smart (1993:108) already concluded ‘We live in interesting, if rather confusing times’. This might be even more true during the contemporary Covid-19 pandemic. For most people, especially young people, not a situation they have waited upon. However, for sociologists this situation is one big social experiment, and therefore it means more exciting than confusing times. Due to ethical considerations experiments with people are not really allowed in modern democracies. Although, I always wondered how psychologists can come away with what they are doing in their dungeons in the basement of the S-building, but that must be my professional jealousy. This pandemic situation, however, gives rise to all sorts of social experiments. Most notably in the domains of work and education.

For several decades research has been done on telework (the predecessor of working from home, or the contemporary work-wherever-you-want). Most of the results showed employers and supervisors do not really trust their employees to work at home (Dikkers et al, 2007). Only workers higher up the food chain, read managers or professionals, like scientists, would be allowed to sometimes work at home. But suddenly, forced by a small but infectious virus, working from home is considered be no problem at all. Trust seems no issue anymore. Of course, the possibility to work from home is dependent on the kind of work you do. Picking up the garbage, cleaning offices, or working in a pub or restaurant is not possible from home. Also work done in the informal economy, for instance in many African countries, is also directly impacted by not meeting people in person. Therefore, new forms of inequality arise, or to be more precise, old forms of inequality become increasingly visible. Organizations like the United nations, the World bank, and the World Health Organization predict a large rise in unemployment and increase in poverty, which puts the continuous improvement of the living conditions of the world population (Pinker, 2018) on hold.

Education is the second domain where we have seen a sudden increase in all kinds of social experiments. Long distance learning is nothing new, think about the Open University etc., and the constant inventions in the field of virtual learning are also part of a longer trend. However, in the spring of 2020 the whole education system from primary school to university had to switch to the virtual world. But, due to the already existing digital infrastructure like Canvas, Teams, Zoom etc., the move to the virtual world was done almost overnight. A tremendous task which caused almost a general burnout for the people at the IT departments. And, also in the domain of education, new and old inequalities came to the surface. The move to the virtual classroom depends on stable internet connections, enough and sometimes powerful IT equipment. Not every pupil or student was able to adapt directly to these new requirements. Also not all teachers and lecturers where that tech savvy (talking with the mic on mute etc.). Again, organizations like UNESCO, the EU, and the WHO report a rise in inequality in the domain of education. At the university, the lecturers and students made the move without much hesitation, there was not much choice. And the rapid move was a short term response, to keep the academic year moving without much delay.

At Tilburg university, we are now in unit 3, which is the 5th unit that is mainly online teaching. Time for some reflection from the perspective of a sociology lecturer in this pandemic. As mentioned before, the situation seems, also from my side of the Zoom webcam, not the most wanted or pleasurable for the students. Locked up in a 12 square meter room, or, maybe even worse, stuck at your parents home. The working from home situation is fairly different for me. First of all, working in academia since 1993 I am well adjusted to work from home (see above), so no real ‘changes’ (Bowie, 1971). Next, working for such a long time in academia also means I was able to slowly trade my student housing for a house with garden already years ago. The working at home conditions are therefore no punishment, rather a freely made choice, long before this pandemic started. So, I will focus in the rest of this reflection on my teaching experiences during Covid-19.

Despite having all the right equipment, and being seasoned in using pc’s and all kind of software since the late 80’s, teaching with Zoom was something new to learn. I was pleasantly surprised how quickly everybody switched to the virtual domain. Of course, most of the interaction with students was already done via Canvas and email, so nothing new. Recording lectures was also not something new, many of my lectures have been recorded in the last years. However, those recordings were just registrations of my live performances in the lecture hall. Recording at home, sitting alone for the pc, with only a webcam, a PowerPoint, and your own face to watch, was a bit confronting at first. I had to choose between pre-recording my lectures, or record live Zoom lectures. I decided to more or less try to make my version of ‘flip the classroom’, by prerecording my lectures and organize a weekly live Q&A session via Zoom. Students then had to opportunity to watch the lectures whenever they want, and still have the possibility to ask questions in a kind of live interaction. And, of course, the labs were also live Zoom sessions, which meant another opportunity for interaction. Until now I have been teaching five courses, small (about 20 students) and big (over 300 students).

My experience is mixed. To start with the negative side, I do miss the direct contact with the students during the breaks, before or at the end of the lecture, and meeting students, student assistants, and colleagues at the campus and at the 8th floor of the S-building. Teaching in virtual reality is very much a goal-rational endeavor (cf. Weber, 1978), and in a way an iron cage. Weber’s fear of alienation is real, goal-rational systems have not much compassion for the human need of just spending time and interact for the sake of it (see also Ritzer, 1993). On a positive note, teaching via Zoom is highly efficient. Every student occupies the same small square window on my screen, so hiding in the back of the class behind a laptop or fellow student is not possible anymore. Also, each square shows the name of each student, which makes it easier and more personal to interact, than my usual shouting ‘hey you’ (Pink Floyd, 1979) because I am very bad in remembering names. The possibility of the breakout rooms is also a very quick and handy way to let students work together on small lab assignments, or prepare discussions with a small group on the spot. The live Q&A sessions and live labs are therefore serving their purpose. It still not beats a real classroom, but it does have its advantages.

Recording on demand video lectures took me some time to get used to. First of all, nothing beats the excitement and energy of teaching in front of a live audience. This might have to do with my idea of teaching. I see teaching as a form of entertainment, each time it is my challenge to keep the students interested in my passion: sociology. As some of you probably know, my other passion is music, and basically a dj is doing the same thing: trying to keep people on the dancefloor[1]. Therefore, recording a lecture without the energy of a live audience is still a bit weird. At first I tried to record the ‘perfect’ lecture, but I found out very soon that also in the live setting there is not something like a perfect lecture. Presumably, my prerecorded lectures show the same mistakes as my live lectures, they suffer however from the lack of interaction with the audience. Which makes live lectures probably a bit better, although many of you will also be grateful that a prerecorded lecture is less inviting for me to throw in an abundance of stupid and silly jokes (Kuipers, 2009). A blessing in disguise?

From a lecturer’s perspective, this Covid-19 era is devoid of the energy of human interaction. I do miss the spontaneous interactions and discussions in the classroom, and on campus. I do think the virtual world of education offers a tremendous amount of possibilities to learn what you need to know for the courses I teach. But, academic life is not only learning in a most efficient way. It’s above all examine your own ideas by confronting them, and discussing them with the other members of the academic community. Luckily, nowadays it is possible to do this to a great extend virtually. When this pandemic had spread twenty, or even ten years ago, it was way more problematic to keep interacting like we do today with all the social media at hand. But I do think the most fruitful socialization (cf. Durkheim) and internalization (cf. Parson) of academic norms, will be a real life setting. Despite the increase of people believing various forms of conspiracy theories, I am still very confident my fellow scientists from medical departments will be able to tackle this viral challenge. Until that time: “We’re living in virtual insanity” (Jamiroquai, 1996), so ‘Life’s what you make it’ (Talk Talk, 1985).


Bowie, D. (1971). Hunky Dory. RCA.

Dikkers, J. S., Geurts, S. A., Dulk, L. D., Peper, B., Taris, T. W., & Kompier, M. A. (2007). Dimensions of work–home culture and theirrelations with the use of work–home arrangements and work–homeinteraction. Work & Stress, 21,155–172.

Franklin, A. (1995). Who’s Zooming Who? Arista Records.

Jamiroquai (1996). Travelling Without Moving. Sony.

Kuipers, G. (2009). Humor styles and symbolic boundaries. Journal of Literary Theory 3(2): 219-239.

Pink Floyd (1979). The Wall. Harvest records.

Pinker, S. (2018). Enlightenment now. The Case for Reason, Science, Humanism, and Progress. Penguin Books.

Ritzer, G. (1993). The McDonaldization of Society. An Investigation Into the Changing Character of Contemporary Social Life. Thousand Oaks: Pine Forge Press.

Smart, B. (1993). Postmodernity. Routledge.

Talk Talk (1985). The Colour Of Spring. EMI.

Weber, M. (1978). Economy and Society. An Outline of Interpretive Sociology. Volume Two. Berkeley: University of California Press.

[1] More about my other life can be found on or This footnote is dedicated to Lars, because it shows ‘shameless self promotion’.