Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Feminism on safari

Monday, July 30, 2007

A few thoughts on book burning

Some would argue that in a true democracy book burning is never morally acceptable or even necessary. In fact, they would argue, the existence of opposing political views is an indispensable component of a free society.

Thus, when different schools of thought are expressed in written form, one should always value the literary product on principle, even if one has no regard for the meaning it conveys. From this viewpoint, book burning does irretrievable damage to our common cultural heritage, and constitutes a crime against the human spirit.

But say for example that it’s very, very cold. You’re snowbound on the Siberian tundra, with a newborn baby entrusted in your care, and all you have on you is a box of matches and the collected works of former North Korean dictator Kim Il-Sung in duplicate copies. Would it be wrong to burn one set of books then, I ask you? Of course it wouldn’t!

One would have to be very cold hearted indeed to allow an innocent child to come to harm just so one could defend some high-flying personal principle. As the immortal Sigmund P. Freud writes in his Strap-on Dildos and Their Relation to the Unconscious, “it is a sad world where newborn babies are allowed to undergo hypothermia in the name of liberty.”

I personally couldn’t agree more. How many babies have to freeze to death on the Siberian tundra before the citizens of this great nation wake up to the harsh realities of life in the twenty-first century? There’s a War on Terror going on, if you didn’t already know it. Do you think the heroes of 9/11 would hesitate to set books on fire if it could save the life of a child? I think not.

Support the troops! And by troops I mean people who burn books.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Kill the dwarves

Government means taxes. I get it. The state is out to get my money. It’s my very own hard-earned money and the state wants to steal it from me. But you know what? That’s OK with me, and I’ll tell you why: Primarily for political reasons that I don’t care to debate with you.

But also for this very simple reason: When the state wants my money it’s very discreet about it. It just takes the money right out of my wallet and leaves a little note saying: “Hey, it’s just me again, I took some money to use for health care and stuff, hope it’s not a problem, see you next month.” Sure, fine, whatever. I could’ve used that money for canned tomatoes or something, but I guess I’ll survive.

But when Capitalism wants my money – man, it just won’t shut up. Like I’m on a bus. Someone on the next seat keeps slapping my face. I look over, it’s Capitalism. “Hey man, have a tampon.”

It seems like everywhere I go there’s this hungry little dwarf pulling at my shirttails. “Hey man, want to buy a rose scented tampon?” I don’t use tampons, asshole. “Oh, I wasn’t talking to you.” Then why are you shouting into my ear? And why do you have your hands in my pocket all the time? Here, take the money, take it, just go away, jeez. Fucking rose scented tampons.

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Monday, July 23, 2007

Oh, crap

If you're willing to invest in all this plastic equipment to toilet train your sociopathic offspring, why can't you be bothered to take his pants off before he uses it?

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Kiss me, Hardy

Saturday, July 21, 2007

Light the searchbeams

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Warning: This post contains spoilers!

A leaked copy of the highly anticipated last work in the Harry Potter series, Harry Potter and the gay xylophonist by three time Nobel Prize nominee Adolf P. Roosevelt, has fallen into our hands here at SHÄDY ÄCRES.

To make a long story short, this is what happens: In the beginning of the book, Harry Potter wins an aluminium medal in the 2009 Autumn Olympics. Later he befriends a giant porcupine by the name of Lola, and develops a mustard addiction. At the beginning of the second act we find Harry somewhere in the Basra area of Iraq, acting as bodyguard to Prince Henry of Wales. He proceeds to tame a unicorn by stroking its penis. At the very end Harry Potter grows a moustache and changes his name to Jesus Frodo Skywalker the Good. The book ends with the enigmatic words: “The scar was almost completely gone now, but sometimes there was a dull ache where his left testicle had once been.”

In an uncharacteristically rapid response to this very post, a spokesperson for the Winchester P. Gandhi publishing house said the following: "We all have our theories on how the series will end, but the only way we'll know for sure is to buy the book ourselves. We certainly haven’t leaked anything in some giant, predictable marketing manouvre. And now if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish reading the Wizard of Earthsea trilogy by Ursula K. LeGuin.”

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Liberty throws a surprise party

- a belated Bastille Day poem

















The President is there, and the press, but she doesn’t show.
Where is she? Where is she hiding? She’s always late.

Liberty sleeps when she can. Liberty never smiles.
Liberty cries at weddings, but never at funerals.

Liberty digs her fingers like a mighty rake into the cobbled streets,
Tearing up stones and more stones for a stage to dance on; the barricade.

When Liberty has an orgasm ships go down at sea,
And the walls of great cities tremble and collapse.

Liberty sports a smart Phrygian cap, as does her sister, Barbarism.
Liberty paints her toenails with the blood of tyrants.

Friday, July 13, 2007

Agri Umbrae


Our competence – your guarantee

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Cut off my head and release all my evil

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Riding the wave of my demise


Monday, July 09, 2007

Notes at 5am

Crop circles caused by untidy aliens leaving coffee mugs around on surface of earth instead of taking them to the sink? Ramifications of this.

Pants: pros and cons.

Utility of lengthy discussions with political opponents one will never in a million years win over: Fun to make them cry. Maybe small chance of convincing bystanders. Other than that complete waste of time. Avoid in future.

Remember to modify shopping lists in preparation for climate change.

Who left that tiny, dried seahorse on the ledge in the office? Makes no sense to bring holiday souvenirs to work unless one is a character in a romantic comedy. Find out which co-worker is a character in a romantic comedy, maybe get small role (This could be big).

Saturday, July 07, 2007

And we're walking -

No more Lüleå city life for me. I have heard the call of the wild and I'm leaving for the mountains! This is my preferred mode of transportation. The trick is to sneak into the luggage compartment before the bus starts moving.

Aboard one of the squillion ferries of Finnmärk, I'm free to switch rides while the car deck is empty.

I meet up with Lasse and Anja, the intrepid architects/travelers, and a third guy with walking sticks.

This is the moment when I first realize that Lasse's hands have become surgically attached to his pockets.

When I look back on the trip now, this is how I remember them: Somewhere in the far distance behind me, fiddling with their equipment and whining about their blisters.

Jesus fuck, it's still winter up here! This was not what the brochure said. I only packed my bikini.

This is what we call a "mountain" in the expert terminölogy.

Apparently many people have been sawed in half up here.

This is a damn nice picture. (Get it? Get it?)

If you want to go inside the icy lake, here's the door.

Animals I have encountered: the Scandinavian lemming (lemnus lemnus).

Hard to catch, but good eatin'.

It's basically a choleric mountain hamster.

But enough about lemmings. Here is a picture of a waterfall.

The water looks so inviting, doesn't it? I'm so happy I packed my bikini.

If there's a troll underneath this bridge, it's most likely a wet troll.

Ah, the valley of the happy, nice people.

Look at them. So happy and nice.

IF IT WASN'T FOR THE GODDAMN MOSQUITOS!

Here's that guy with the walking sticks getting a mosquito bite on the shoulder.

The mosquitos don't bite Lasse because his canteen is full of gin instead of water. That guy is like a chocoholic, only with alcohol.

And we're walking -

This is the only picture I have from the third and fourth day, because we mostly spent the time wading waist high in icy water. In the rain.

This is probably not a good sign.

Thank GOD we made it down alive.

Lasse is either very grateful, or his architecture fetish has finally gone too far.

Time for me to find a luggage compartment to sneak into.

This is strictly forbidden. Don't even think about it.

The dark busses. In the dark. They have come to take me away. In the dark.

THE END

Friday, July 06, 2007

Tally-ho, old chap




It's my Grandpa's 91th. Happy effing birthday!

Monday, July 02, 2007

Mom's nannys


Sunday, July 01, 2007

In these slutty times


Whilst Mikkel is walking in Jotunheimen, The Eye is checking the availability for virgins in trouble. Me, I'm just taking life easy.