Not another book

So i've been commissioned to write this book about Central Bosnia. That may sound exciting to some, but after four travel guide books -- all of them overdedicated to making heads or tails of this confusing corner of the planet, I just wanna blog. I've done my masters and PhD in Bosnian history writing these damn things.

I've locked myself in this little corner room of my home, exiting only to walk my massive Tornjak, an indigenous sheep dog from -- guess where, Central fucking Bosnia. But its not her fault that the ancient Bosnian kingdom was located on her mountain. How was she to know that Kotromanic Dynasty would collapse at the hands of the mighty Sultan way back when in 1463 when the Turkish army rolled through Bosnia. The dumb-ass king, what's his name, Tomas, thought the fortress at Bobovac would hold out for two years. SHIT! It fell in three days. The sassy Sultan had gotten a hold of canons, which the little Slavic seljak tribes hidden in the mountains couldn't even dream of -- guerilla warfare against a barrage of canons in the 15th century means only one thing -- you lose.

So thanks to Reilly, my Tornjak fury friend, i do get a breath of fresh air every now and then. When do i get to write the fun stuff though. Why doesn't the European Union commission me to sit here and bullshit to no one all day. I'll write a few sentences about the ancient handicrafts of the leather and coppersmiths -- if they'd just leave me alone.

And what kind of 'tourist guidebook' can i write when the only thing to see in these bloody places are slabs of stone that are supposed to represent a magnificent 14th century castle. There were no fucking glorious capitals. OK, it was made from stone....compared to shotgun shacks and prefabs it was probably quite beautiful, but these were communities about the size of average Albanian family for fucks sake. So a tourist goes to these glory day places and sees a bunch of old rocks, barely knee high and are supposed to be excited about it.

'You mean I paid for this?'

Half the book is dedicated to what was. Which is precisely the problem in the balkans today. What was. It's been distorted and contorted to such a ridiculous extent that the validity of almost anything here should be, must be, seriously questioned. Next thing you know they're going to prove the pyramid theory, then we're really in trouble.

So all this fuss about the Bosnian Kingdom -- whose greatest success was to really give a good century or two of 'fuck-off' to both the Catholic and Orthodox structures from the west and east. Sort of like the Doobie Brothers their philosophy was quite simple, don't drown me with your political shit, we think Jesus is alright so we're gonna go with it. But the thick forests and deep gorges couldn't keep the missionaries at bay. They came, one by one, waiving some stupid flag that these fuckers are still fighting over today. I can't even remember who my eighth grade teacher was let alone who one the battle at Kosovo Fields in 1389. Come to think of it, i don't give a rats ass who my eighth grade teacher was and even less about who did what in the fourteenth friggin century.

But, hey, everyone's gotta make a living. So back to the grind. I have a deadline tomorrow to tell the story of medieval central Bosna all the way to present day. It reminds of a fridge magnet i once read....

'the past is history, the future a mystery, this moment is a gift - that's why they call it present.'