10.000 hits = Party w/ nametags!

My, oh my. SHÄDY ÄCRES reaches a grand total of 10.000 hits on the very day of my sweet 33. What a happy coincidence.

...Or is it?

Hæppy børsday to me

The insanity some people come up with

I downloaded this from http://www.new-millenium-liberty-watch.net/illuminati-freemason-anarcho-zionist-world-terrorism/finnmärck-underground/~02317shädy-äcres-monitor.html. I can't believe they devoted an entire website to monitoring our activities. I mean really.

Season's greetings

Well, well, well. Hell hell hell. One full season of dressing people up in elk leather items has finally come to an end, and my two-day holiday seems like a distant memory already. I'm taking a week off next week. Phew.

Late hæppy børsday

Adolf ze unfreundliche ghost

One of those days

I wish I was somewhere else. Anywhere else.

I just had a really weird experience -

- that I can't tell you about.

The first day of autumn as seen through my new Leica

Eat your heart out

You called?

Donner und Blitzen! I must admit I become a tiny bit enffious wenn I see mein own achieffements fade into history as they are eclipsed by ze industrialized killing of ze U.S. military.

Ich bin greatly impressed by your supreme kontempft für international humanitarian law.

Your massiffe use of zese wonderful weapons of indiscriminate effect, ze beautiful daisy cutters, ze lovely white phosphorous, all ze pretty little landmines, zat charming depleted uranium, ze exquisite thermobarische bomben, oh, and let’s not forget ze divine klusterbomben... Ich could go on all day!

Es ist simply wunderbar. Even ze good old napalm, banned by die verdamten United Nations after zose funny pictures of ze naked Vietnamese girl shocked ze weak masses of ze Western world. You Amerikanische are ze only people still to use zis wunderbar substanze, in obvious kontraffention of international law. You must be so proud!

Well, well... All zis talk of totaler krieg ist making me peckisch. I’m off for a little vegetarian schnack.

Sieg Heil.

HÆPPY BØRSDAY!

Use ze force!

Although you Amerikanischer are clearly a bunch of unterachieffers, Ich muss sagen I like wat you haffe done mitt das place. Es ist beautiful how you get your zocalled Free Press to do your propaganda for you. Ha ha ha!

I like alzo very much zis War on Terror conzept. Ha ha ha! International Terrorism ist as obscure as International Jewry, which giffes you a perfect excuse to trample civil liberties.

As an added bonus, es hat lovely untertones of racism. Und denn you can pretty much invade any country you like looking for it, which ist always nice. You haffe efen convinced ze Italians, I mean ze verdamter Britische, to aid you in zis crazy endeavor.

All you need ist secret konzentration camps where you are free to torture ze untermenschen mit impunity. Ach, you already haffe zose? Wunderbar!

So far so gut. But Achtung! Das trick is not to oferextend your armies trying to get to zose oilfields in ze Kaukasus. I mean ze Middle East, of course. I’m sorry. I get confused.

Sieg Heil!

Sorry just isn't good enough

This morning we received an e-mail from the robotic Blogger spam-detection agency:

Hello,

Your blog has been reviewed, verified, and cleared for regular use so that it will no longer appear as potential spam. If you sign out of Blogger and sign back in again, you should be able to post as normal. Thanks for your patience, and we apologize for any inconven-ience this has caused.

Sincerely,
The Blogger Team

We knew they'd come crawling back.

The first day in prison is always the hardest

Before I board the plane for Stöckfisck I buy a packet of cigarettes for the first time in a year and I start sucking those babies down. Sweet mother of darkness, they still taste great.

The East Country is the same as always. I don’t know why I even bother coming here.

Oh, that’s right, the kid. The firstborn. The rat. This is where he lives, with a blurry creature named Wolfsbill.

There’s also a car crazy step dad and half a sister who likes shoes and breaks sunglasses expertly.

She has her mother’s accusing eyes.

There she is. The ex wife. God she’s ugly.

And what a hideous, dim-witted child she bore me.

It all looks pretty cozy, right? Wrong!

Apparently the kid has become mixed up with a bad crowd.

It’s the ice cream. They’re all hooked on the stuff. They crave it.

So they’ve formed a gang that I think might be affiliated with the Aryan Brotherhood, and they run around terrorizing the neighborhood.

When they finally get busted the system throws the book at them, and the verdict is harsh: 10 years without the possibility of parole.

Well, you little delinquent, you know what they say: Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time. Let’s get a mug shot before we send you off.

And from the side. Fine. Now march, off to break those rocks.

Not so cocky now, are we?

That’s right, line up, you little crooks.

“… That’s the sound of the man, working on the chain ga-a-ang…”

Luckily it’s a modern facility. It’s all very humane. There’s a rehabilitation program and everything.

Yeah, good luck with that. Day two and he’s already a hard case.

Come on, you can at least pretend, you little rat. Show the screws your falsest smile.

So now you’re dressed in the county greens.

Better tighten up your gut, start thinking on your feet.

Make a shank. Keep your back to the wall.

I don’t know what to tell you, kid. It’s no picnic on the inside. Not with a face like yours.

You’ll get plenty of time to think about your mistakes. Trust me.

But one day all this will be over.

Mom will be there to pick you up at the gate.

I, on the other hand, can’t afford to be seen with you. It’s bad for my reputation.

So you have to take care of yourself.

I'm out of here.

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This is a preview of a coming post entitled The first day in prison is always the hardest.

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Sara, week 21

Aruba, Jamaica, ooh I wanna take her --

Word Verify this

Spent all day in court. For once I'm not the one on trial. My old defense lawyer still greets me the same way. He's all: "Hey, next time you boys go out and do something crazy, I'll come with you!" And we're all: "Yeah, yeah, but you have to promise to wear the robe!" And then that fucking judge comes in and spoils the fun.

Well thanks a bunch

"Spam blogs can be recognized by their irrelevant, repetitive, or nonsensical text."

We are ze robots, na-nana-na-na

A man walks into a tiny bar that he likes and goes: "My holidays begin today. I'd like an Erdinger and a shot of Ardbeg."

The bartender in response says: "I can't serve you, sir. Your blögzine requires word verification."

"What?!"

The bartender looks at him sternly: "Blogger's spam-prevention robots have detected that your blögzine has certain characteristics typical of a spam blögzine. Would you like to know more about how Blogger is participating in the war on terror?"

"Are you fucking kidding me with this? What characteristics?"

The bartender winces: "We can't reveal that. But since you're an actual person, your blögzine is probably not a spam blögzine. Automated spam detection is inherently fuzzy, and we sincerely apologize for this false positive. However, before we can turn off mandatory word verification on your posts we'll need to review your blögzine and verify that it is not a spam blögzine. Please fill out this form to get a review."

The man becomes agitated: "I demand to know how you singled out my blögzine for your bolschevist, fascist, capitalist, communist, zionist, christian, muslim, fundamentalist, extremist, left wing, right wing, police state invasion of my virtual space! I demand to talk to a human being!"

"Calm down sir! That is no way to behave if you want to become a Blog of Note. Just type the characters you see in the picture below."

"Well F-U-C-K... Y-O-U... A-S-S-H-O-L-E. There. Now give me beer."

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The man behind the counter looks at him with an air of exhaustion: "Sir, I am a gynocologist. What would you like me to put on the signs for heaven's sake?"

Blogging the tummy at 20 weeks

End of Volume One

First let me say this: I can’t BELIEVE we missed our one-year anniversary.

Why didn’t any of you monkeys give us the heads up on this? You can’t expect us to keep track of everything! Every time I leaf through the pages of this here Finnmärck blögzine it strikes me how little you people contribute. You hardly ever post anything; all you do is make comments. It’s deeply disappointing.

As well as being a piteously neglected milestone, the first of August was also a below average day in terms of productivity and output here at the SHÄDY ÄCRES. We ran four more or less standard posts that received a total of 5 (five) comments. We had a measly 27 visitors in all, most of them Chinese speaking. Pretty lame, as we say in the science of statistics.

As you probably know, productivity measures (and of course related cost measures) are designed for use in economic analysis and private policy planning, to forecast and analyze prices, wages, and technological change. From such a perspective things look pretty glum.

There are two primary types of productivity statistics:

a) Labor productivity measures output per hour of labor, which doesn’t make much sense in this context since we do most of the work while you just sit there in your sweatpants scratching your balls and/or armpits depending on your gender and inclination.

b) Multifactor productivity, on the other hand, measures output per unit of combined inputs, which consist of labor (get real) and capital (yeah right), and, in this case, intermediate inputs such as semi nude pictures of Sara, nazi jokes, eye diseases and me talking gibberish.

We have to be honest with you. No, let me rephrase that: We have decided to be honest with you some of the time, and this may or may not be one of those times. To put it bluntly, if the current trend continues we’ll be out of business soon.

The staff has therefore decided that it’s time for the first ever SHÄDY ÄCRES party, just as soon as the counter hits the magic 10.000. Yes, there will be nametags. We’ll be back with more details later because so far that’s all we’ve got: A SHÄDY ÄCRES party with nametags. That’s the entire idea, right there.

What a year, eh? This is your cue to dip into our archives and reminisce.

Aerodynamics made simple

You are traveling on an airplane, crossing the great Atlantic from point A to point zero. The Pakistani gentleman in the window seat next to you can’t really be Muslim, can he, because he’s tossing down those gin and tonics like there’s no tomorrow.

You engage him in conversation, but his arguments are so much better than yours, it feels like they’re in an entirely different language. He says: I like airplanes simply because thrust equals drag and lift equals weight. Why do you think the airplanes don't fall down in the first place? The threat of violence keeps them in the air.

While you’re talking the air particles keep hitting the bottom surface of the wing like shotgun pellets bouncing off a metal plate, deflecting downward and imparting some of their momentum to the wing, thus incrementally nudging the wing upward with every molecular impact.

You try to explain to him that the threat of violence is not an aerodynamic force. You say: lift is a force that acts on a solid object immersed in a moving fluid.

The Pakistani gentleman orders another gin and tonic. You’ve got it all wrong, he says. Terrorism is clearly an aerodynamic force that acts on the nation state perpendicular to the flow of ideology. Counter terrorism is the same thing, he insists, only acting parallel to the direction of the fluid flow.

No, no, you try to argue, that's drag. The net force is created by pressure differences brought about by variations in the speed of the ideology that surrounds society at all points. These velocity variations are caused by the disruption and turning of political beliefs that flow past culture at high speed.

The Pakistani gentleman has to agree with you on this point since you have both signed Isaac Newton’s third law.

But you can’t help thinking; those theories were developed for naval warfare, in order to help decrease the resistance that ships encounter in the water. The goal was to build a faster boat, not a better airplane. What if ideology is not a fluid? What if society is not a vehicle? What if there is no lift? What if terrorism does not exist at all?

It occurs to you that the measured pressure distribution on a typical wing looks like something you’ve seen on a TV weather forecast. For the first time you begin to worry that the plane might crash.

Garlandea

I bought a new pair of pants today. We had chicken salad for dinner. The gargantuan spider that resides in the basement just ignores me whenever I use the dryer. And I keep getting these disturbing phone calls: "What are the rules for that card game we used to play? How do you divide the pot? Is it more dangerous to be a soldier or a civilian? Where does the cougar live?"

A pencil is so small. I wish I played the guitar.

We have a silver toast rack?

ARGH, ok

Photo by Margi Geerlinks.

A book that changed your life: Brødrene Løvehjerte, by Astrid Lindgren. It motivated me to learn how to read when I was four years old and fed up with my father always choosing when to stop reading the story.

A book you've read more than once: uhm, Fear and loathing in Las Vegas (Hunter S. Thompson), Karma Cola (Gita Mehta), Seieren bor i din tro (Nordahl Grieg), Under Milkwood (Dylan Thomas).

A book you'd want on a desert island: I'd much rather have Mikkel. If not, a comprehensive book on the local flora and fauna, with chapters on how to build huts, befriend the natives, etc.

A book that made you laugh: The Illuminatus! Trilogy by Robert Shea and Robert Anton Wilson. I particularly enjoyed the scene where Hagbard Celine, zen laywer and maniac anarchist, releases a bunch of 'suicidal mynah birds' in Central park (the birds have been trained to call out here, kitty, kitty).

A book that made you cry: For whom the bell tolls by Ernest Hemingway. That fucker had me weeping out loud for a full twenty minutes after the last page had been turned. So far all I can take of Islands in the stream, is the first short story. Oh, and Jean Genet's A thief's diary made me cry too.

A book you wish had been written: Democracy in America. Oh, fuck it's already been written.

A book you're currently reading: Barneboka, surprise, a book on children, and Dictionary of the Khazars. Occasionally, I leaf through compilations of Norwegian poetry

A book you've been meaning to read: Female Sexualization by Frigga Haug, it's for my goddamn methodology.

Now tag X people: Espen (Sykkelstyre) and RJJ (Verderblich).

I have been tagged by B1-66er

A movie that changed your life:
Seven Samurai (1954)
“One guard for each direction makes four. Two more as a reserve. You'll need at least... seven, including me.”

A movie you've seen more than once:
The Big Sleep (1946)
“Nice state of affairs when a man has to indulge his vices by proxy.”

A film that made you laugh:
Monsoon Wedding (2001)
“Whether our parents introduce us, or whether we meet in a club, what difference does it make?”

A film that made you cry:
Come and See (1985)
“Right. Your weapon. Where is it?”

A film you wish had been shot:
The Zapruder film II (2006)
“I have the weirdest sense of déjà... OH MY GOD!”

A film you wish had never been shot:
Lawnmower Man 2: Beyond Cyberspace (1996)
“Come on, you guys – let’s cyber cycle!”

Last film seen:
The Assassination of Richard Nixon (2004)
“I wanna throw an idea at you: Zebras.”

A movie you've been meaning to see:
Debbie Does Dallas (1978)
“Don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me.”

Now tag X people:
I tag the Tyger for tagging me in the first place (2006)
“I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date. No time to say hello. Goodbye. I'm late, I'm late, I'm late.”

The Marit animal

Are the rumors true? Is she really a witch?

You be the judge.

I have been tagged by the Tyger

A book that changed your life:
Books don’t change me much, but there’s a paragraph from The Dictionary of the Khazars by Milorad Pavic that I’ve used as a pick-up line with some success.

A book you’ve read more than once:
In order to really get into the mindset of a 17th century samurai retainer you have to be in the toilet, so that’s where I keep Tsunetomo Yamamoto’s Hagakure.

A book you’d want on a desert island:
I think I’d rather have a knife, but if I had to choose a book it would be a huge volume with nice, soft pages. Maybe Hugh Thomas’ The Spanish Civil War.

A book that made you laugh:
Side Effects by Woody Allen: "In order to be a writer," Maugham continues, "one must take chances and not be afraid to look foolish. I wrote The Razor’s Edge while wearing a paper hat."

A book that made you cry:
Hemingway’s Islands in the Stream. It’s more of a draft than a finished work, full of manly clichés and rehashed vomit, but I still think it’s underrated. He was working on this at the time of his suicide. I don’t want to spoil it for you, but it’s not as light and up-beat as his other works.

A book that you wish had been written:
How the International Criminal Court was ratified by the USA, Israel and China by Luis Moreno Ocampo.

A book you wish had never been written:
I think we’d all be happier without Spinoza’s Ethics, don’t you?

A book you’re currently reading:
Michael Connelly: The Lincoln Lawyer.

A book you’ve been meaning to read:
The Bible. I can’t remember who wrote it but it’s supposed to be a really good book.

Now tag X people:
Sara, Lasse, B1-66er. Knock yourselves out.

The moment you've ALL been waiting for

Whilst I was at work, minding the elk shop, today someone - namely Lasse - has been hard at work too. It's my great honour to present a video clip of Mikkel singing a song he made up himself. HERE.

Heeeere's Johnny!

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

Our back road of the super highway

It's a boy!

The darling cherub

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha - funny

Subtitled for your convenience

Good morning

I have a dream

I have a dream that one day no one will have to get up at 7:00. Naked and free we will ride our Shetland ponies through the valleys of Finnmärck and not have to use a coaster for our drinks. Light bulbs will last at least twice as long. Yes.