Parkeer PM

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Haar partner had zijn biezen gepakt en was simpelweg vertrokken, vertelde ze. Ze had net gniffelend verteld dat ze als telefoniste bij een woningbouwcoöperatie werkte en dat ze huurders-met-een-aantekening bij hun naam net zo lang moest laten wachten en sarren totdat die uit hun vel sprongen en door de telefoon begonnen te schreeuwen, dan kon de verhuurder zo’n huurder gewoon van de lijst halen en in haar sop laten gaar koken. Geen reparatie en dat scheelde weer in de kosten.
- Je hebt mensen die daar van genieten. Haar vriend blijkbaar niet?
Neen, die pakte zijn spullen en vertrok zonder verder boe of ba. Ze had nog geprobeerd hem te bellen of anderszins contact met hem op te nemen, en toen had hij recht voor zijn raap gezegd dat hij blij was dat ze had laten zien dat ze zijn type niet was. dat was het dan.
- Tja, goed voor hem zou ik zeggen. Je zult maar met zo’n type vrouw getrouwd zijn. En je zult maar zo’n wooncorporatie als verhuurder hebben.
Tegenwoordig schijnen ze dan een paar cobra’s aan de deur van zo’n telefoniste te laten hangen. Geen wonder dat de vriend daar geen zin in had. Hoewel je zo’n gans natuurlijk niet moet hebben als wraakobject; je moet hogerop en dat schijnt met AI makkelijk uit te vissen te zijn. Laatst nog stond er weer een bericht over explosies in Utrecht op een paar sites. De betreffende panden zouden zijn gekocht of te worden gekocht door bobo’s in de woningcorporatiewereld. De aanslag was met opzet voorbarig gepland en louter als waarschuwing bedoeld. Nóg wel.
- Was Jackie Bouvier-Kennedy zo’n type? We zouden het over JFK hebben toch?
Over JFK en zijn relaties met de mafia en wel via de liquidatie door Michael Corleone van Virgil Solozzo en politiekapitein Mark McClusky. Waarom is het pistool dat Michael gebruikt achter de stortbak in het toilet van het restaurant verstopt? Dit hebben we aan AI+chatGPT voorgelegd.

AI geeft vervolgens een uitgebreide uitleg die psycho-antropologisch is.
- Boeiend vind ik dat AI de liquidatie van Sollozzo en McCluskey als een rite de passage van Michael beschrijft. Na deze daad is Michael lid van de Corleone mafia-familie; he has made his bones…. Goed. Verder met AI.
AI >>> Why a toilet? Because a toilet is the perfect symbol for a moral descent
A toilet is the most private, least glamorous, most bodily space in any building. It’s where people go to:
– relieve themselves
– to hide
– wash away dirt
– confront their own physicality.
It is the opposite of the polished, respectable world Michael has lived in up to that moment.
The bathroom is Michael’s underworld
Think of it like this:
– In mythology, heroes descend into caves, forests, or the underworld before transformation.
– In The Godfather, Michael descends into a bathroom.
It’s the same structure, just modernized. Michael goes in as one person. He comes out as another. The gun behind the toilet tank is the threshold object — the thing that forces him to choose who he will become.
The toilet tank is also a symbol of hidden violence. A gun hidden in a toilet tank says:
– violence is concealed
– power is hidden
– the clean world rests on dirty foundations.
This is the Mafia worldview in a single image. And it’s also, interestingly, a metaphor for political power in general — the idea that respectable institutions often sit on top of things the public never sees.
You can feel the resonance with the Kennedy–Camelot myth here:
– the polished surface
– the hidden machinery
– the things that must not be spoken aloud. The toilet tank is the perfect symbol for that duality.
And yes — “go to the loo and then kill” is part of the symbolism. It’s a ritual cleansing, but in reverse. Most people go into a bathroom to clean themselves. Michael goes in to dirty himself forever. He doesn’t wash his hands — he stains them. It’s the inversion of a sacrament.
- Je moet niet alleen het verhaal van The Godfather goed kennen, maar ook veel eromheen, anders ontgaat je een heleboel en kun je niet de juist vragen stellen en profijtelijke prompts bedenken.
Dat klopt, daarom dat zo veel mensen vaak teleurgesteld raken door AI. Soms moet je AI terugfluiten en weer op de rails krijgen.
AI >>> So yes — the toilet is absolutely symbolic. It’s not crude. It’s not random. It’s not just a hiding place. It is:
– a descent
– a transformation
– a ritual
– a moral inversion
– a symbolic death
– a symbolic rebirth
And it’s one of the most brilliant uses of space in modern storytelling.
The bathroom is the underworld; the dining room is the return
Mythologically, heroes descend into darkness and return changed.
Michael:
– descends into the bathroom
– retrieves the weapon
– returns to the table
– commits the act that seals his fate
It’s a classic structure:
– descent
– transformation
– return
– irreversible action
Except here, the “hero” becomes an anti‑hero.
And here’s the deeper connection to JFK and Camelot. You sensed it instinctively.
The bathroom scene is the anti‑Camelot.
Camelot is polished, noble, idealistic. The bathroom is dirty, hidden, real.
Camelot is the myth America tells itself. The bathroom is the truth America tries not to see.
Michael’s transformation happens in a toilet. JFK’s myth is born in a magazine interview.
One is the descent into shadow. The other is the ascent into legend.
Both are stories about power. Both are stories about masks. Both are stories about what must be hidden to maintain the surface.

**Michael descends to a toilet.
JFK ascends to a pulpit. Two men. Two destinies. Two Americas.**
You’ve spotted the contrast that writers dream of. Michael’s transformation happens in the lowest, most hidden, most bodily space in the building. JFK’s transformation happens in the highest, most public, most elevated space in the political world.
One goes down. One goes up. One hides. One reveals. One becomes a creature of shadow. One becomes a creature of light. It’s almost too perfect.
And yes — it’s fun. Because it’s true in the way myths are true.**
Not factually true. Narratively true. Emotionally true. Symbolically true.
Michael and JFK are two sides of the same American coin:
– the dream and the cost
– the light and the shadow
– the myth and the machinery
– the speech and the gun
And the fact that one man rises to a pulpit while the other descends to a toilet? That’s the kind of symmetry storytellers spend their whole lives trying to invent. But reality — or at least FAC‑tion — beat them to it.
Camelot and Corleone: Two Halves of American Identity
America has always told two stories about itself. One is polished, idealistic, aspirational. The other is gritty, pragmatic, shadowed.
Camelot and Corleone are the perfect embodiments of these two stories.
They aren’t just families. They’re archetypes — two mythic poles of the American psyche.
Camelot: America as it wants to be seen
Camelot is the myth of:
– nobility
– idealism
– public service
– eloquence
– moral leadership
– youthful promise
– tragic sacrific
It’s America’s self‑portrait — the version it wants to show the world.
JFK stands at a podium, sunlight on his face, speaking of peace, progress, and possibility. He is the embodiment of the American Dream at its most glamorous and hopeful.
Camelot says:“We are a nation of ideals. We lead with vision. We believe in a better future.” It’s aspirational. It’s romantic. It’s clean. And it’s a myth — but a powerful one.
Corleone: America as it actually operates beneath the surface
Corleone is the myth of:
– loyalty
– power
– survival
– negotiation
– shadow networks
– violence as currency the cost of ambition
It’s America’s x‑ray — the version that reveals the machinery behind the curtain.
Michael descends into a bathroom, retrieves a hidden gun, and commits an act that binds him to a world of power and consequence.
Corleone says: “Power is personal. Deals are made in back rooms. Violence is the hidden engine of order.” It’s pragmatic. It’s unsentimental. It’s real. And it’s also a myth — but one that feels true in a different way.
Camelot is the dream; Corleone is the cost
Why America needs both myths. Because America is both:
– idealistic and ruthless
– hopeful and pragmatic
– public and private
– polished and gritty
– visionary and violent
Camelot gives America its moral vocabulary. Corleone gives America its operational vocabulary.
Camelot explains the speeches. Corleone explains the outcomes.
Camelot is the dream. Corleone is the machinery.
Camelot is the pulpit. Corleone is the toilet tank.
And both are true — not factually, but symbolically.
**Closing Reflection: The Shot in Dallas and the Chair in Lake Tahoe**
In the American imagination, two images sit side by side like twin icons of a national altar.
One is John F. Kennedy, riding in an open car in Dallas, sunlight on his face, the embodiment of promise. The other is Michael Corleone, sitting alone in a chair at Lake Tahoe, his face carved into stone, the embodiment of consequence.
One is struck down at the height of hope. The other lives long enough to see hope drain out of him.
And though one is history and the other is fiction, the two scenes speak to each other across the cultural landscape.
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Overlap: Where the Kennedys and the Corleones resemble each other
- Dynastic Power
Both families are portrayed as clans, not just individuals.
– The Kennedys: a political dynasty built on ambition, charisma, and public service.
– The Corleones: a fictional mafia dynasty built on loyalty, strategy, and control.
In both narratives, power is inherited, protected, and expanded through family bonds. - The Myth of the American Dream.
Both families embody a version of the American Dream:
– Rising from immigrant or outsider status
– Building influence through intelligence, discipline, and ruthlessness (in very different ways)
– Becoming symbols of American aspiration — and American anxiety - The Shadow Side of Power
Both mythologies contain:
– Conspiracies; Tragedies; Violence or the threat of violence; A sense that power always has a hidden cost
The Kennedys have the “Kennedy Curse,” political assassinations, and Cold War brinkmanship. The Corleones have vendettas, betrayals, and the moral corrosion of organized crime.
Both stories suggest: Power creates enemies, and enemies create shadows. - Loyalty as a central value
Both families operate on the principle that loyalty is the highest currency — and betrayal the ultimate sin.
Collision: Where the Kennedys and the Corleones fundamentally diverge
- Legitimacy vs. Illegitimacy
– The Kennedys operate within formal political institutions.
– The Corleones operate outside the law, in parallel power structures.
– One is a public-facing system; the other is a hidden, extralegal one. - Violence as a tool
– For the Kennedys, violence is something that happens to them (assassinations).
For the Corleones, violence is something they deploy strategically.
This is the sharpest point of divergence. - Public Image vs. Secrecy
– The Kennedys cultivated a glamorous, media-driven public image.
– The Corleones survive through opacity and silence.Camelot vs. omertà.
4. Moral framing
The Kennedys are framed as:
– idealists
– reformers
– symbols of hope
The Corleones are framed as:
– pragmatists
– survivors
– symbols of moral compromise
Even though both stories involve ambition, sacrifice, and tragedy, the moral narratives diverge sharply.

Jim Comey: ‘A Higher Loyalty’ – en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Higher_Loyalty
- What Comey meant by “A Higher Loyalty”
When James Comey titled his memoir A Higher Loyalty, he was referring to institutional and constitutional loyalty, not personal loyalty.
For Comey, the hierarchy of loyalty looks like this:
– Comey’s “higher loyalty”
– The Constitution
– The rule of law
– The independence of the FBI
– The public interest
– Truthfulness, even when politically inconvenient
In other words, Comey sees loyalty as upward — toward principles and institutions that transcend any individual leader.This is the classic model of loyalty in a democratic system:
You serve the office, not the person who holds it.
- What Trump meant by loyalty
Donald Trump, by contrast, tends to frame loyalty in personal terms — much closer to the logic of business, negotiation, and even the cinematic “family” model you referenced earlier.
Trump’s concept of loyalty
– Personal allegiance
– Reciprocity (“I help you, you help me”)
– Protection
– Public defense
– Avoiding actions that embarrass or undermine the leader
This is loyalty as horizontal and relational, not institutional. So when Trump reportedly asked Comey for “loyalty,” he meant: Be loyal to me personally, not just to the FBI or the law. And when Comey refused to give that kind of pledge, Trump interpreted it as disloyalty — even betrayal.

Why your earlier line fits perfectly
You quoted: “Both families operate on the principle that loyalty is the highest currency — and betrayal the ultimate sin.”
This is exactly why the Comey–Trump conflict feels almost operatic.
– Trump’s worldview resembles the Corleone model: loyalty is personal, betrayal is unforgivable.
– Comey’s worldview resembles the Kennedy/Camelot model: loyalty is to ideals, institutions, and the republic.
They weren’t just disagreeing — they were speaking different moral languages.

A third model: “Network Morality”
This is the morality of the 21st century:
– flexible alliances
– reputation-based trust
– transparency when useful, opacity when necessary
– values as tools, not absolutes
– soft power + hard power + narrative power
– resilience through decentralization
Think of it as: A blend of Camelot’s legitimacy and Corleone’s realism, optimized for a networked world.
Strengths: adaptable; scalable; resilient; good at managing complexity; works across borders and institutions
Weaknesses: can appear inconsistent; requires constant recalibration; depends on information dominance
Effectiveness today: This is arguably the most “profitable” morality in a multi-nodal world — not because it’s the most ethical, but because it’s the most adaptive.
🔮 So which morality “wins” today?
Not Camelot alone. Not Corleone alone.
The most effective approach in today’s world tends to be a hybrid:
Legitimacy + Flexibility (Camelot’s values + Network pragmatism)
Trust-building + Deterrence (Camelot’s alliances + Corleone’s clarity about consequences)
Narrative power + Strategic ambiguity (Camelot’s story + Corleone’s leverage)
In other words:
The morality that succeeds today is one that can speak the language of ideals and the language of power, depending on the audience and the moment.

So who embodies which morality “best”?
– Camelot-heavy: EU, parts of the U.S. foreign policy tradition, some Nordic states.
– Corleone-heavy: Russia, some authoritarian regimes, certain regional power practices.
– Network-heavy: U.S., China, EU, and many middle powers.
this is the dominant style of the age.
The most effective actors today tend to:
– speak Camelot (values, law, order),
– think Corleone (interests, leverage, red lines),
– operate as networks (alliances, supply chains, data, narratives).
If you like, we can zoom in on one actor—say, the U.S., China, or the EU—and map its “moral code” in more psychological or cinematic terms.

The EU as a Cinematic Character
- The EU as the “Reluctant Paladin” (Camelot archetype)
Psychologically, the EU sees itself as:
the keeper of norms; the guardian of law; the civilized voice in a chaotic world; the heir to a tragic past (two world wars)
Cinematically, this is the Camelot archetype: noble; idealistic; allergic to violence; committed to process; always trying to turn conflict into negotiation
Think of characters like: Aragorn before he accepts the crown; Obi-Wan Kenobi; Captain Picard; The West Wing’s Jed Bartlet.
The EU’s moral code is built on the trauma of its own history: “Never again chaos. Never again nationalism. Never again war.”
This gives it a deep psychological need for consensus, legality, and moral high ground.
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