Monday, July 31, 2006

A tube containing two electrodes

At 9000 hits this
particular Finnmärck
blögzine becomes
an online party planner and
event manager,
adding life and fun
to your party, wedding or
corporate event by
selecting one of hundreds of themes
that other people have
created for their
parties, weddings or corporate

It doesn’t matter

Organized sport is the scourge of Finnmärck.

It is a chillingly effective tool of repression, superior to police, army and religion in its impact, superior to alcohol and drugs in its propagation and popularity.

Everybody supports the local team. If you don’t support the local team you are a disloyal and unmanly infidel. Athletes are worshipped as demigods, more so even than pop stars. Television programming revolves around sporting events to a degree where a news broadcast will be postponed if a kømpetanschehæving match goes into overtime.

It is body over mind. Some drooling Neanderthal throwback is grunting into a microphone always. Keep your eye on the ball while we fuck you up the ass, please. Did we win?

This guy for president

The kittens of insanity take it to the next level.

Sunday, July 30, 2006

The Sunday Curse

While I slept the babykillers were busy, and I can do nothing with my hands to stop them. I sit in my own shadow with nothing but a dry tongue to speak my HATRED and my SORROW on behalf of the dead.

So I curse the guilty.

First I call upon the coins and ingots. I call upon the bullion, I call upon the bulk. I call upon the spirits that sleep in the innards of the earth to be awakened by dirty hands. I call out and beseech the names of Ruthenium, Rhodium, Palladium, Osmium, Iridium and Platinum. I cry out in the name of white Silver, the moon metal. I cry out in the name of pure Gold, the sun metal. I call upon all the precious metals of the East.

Next I call upon the stocks and bonds. I call upon all the paper in the world to hear me. I call upon the virgin pulp. I call upon the cellulose, the lignin, the aromatic hydrocarbons and the hemicellulose carbohydrates contained within the wood. I call upon the living souls of trees that were cut down and taken from the great forests of the North.

I also call upon the banknotes. I call upon the soft paper fabric that is lifted out of the thin milky fluid. I call upon the ground and bleached fibres of the white shrub, the Gossypium plant, what the Arabs called al qutun. I call upon the sharp stalks that stung the hands of slaves then, and sting the hands of slaves now. I call upon the soft cotton of the South.

Last I call upon the ink. I call upon the solvents and vehicles, the linseed oil, the soybean oil, the heavy petroleum distillate. I call upon the drying agents, the waxes, the lubricants and the surfactants. I call upon the organic dyes; I call upon the salts of the nitrogen-containing compounds. I call upon the inorganic pigments. I call out: Molybdate Orange! I call out: Cadmium Yellow! I call out: Prussian Blue! But most of all I call out and entreat the shimmering Chrome Green. I thus call upon the mighty chemicals of the West.

Hear me Gold, hear me Paper. Hear me Cotton, hear me Ink. Hear me East, North, South and West. Hear my curse.

I curse the guilty. I curse those who worship the American Dollar. I curse those to whom the lives of women and children are like the lives of insects.

My words will watch them stealthily as flies from the eyes of George Washington and the Great Seal of the United States. My words will follow them swiftly and silently like beetles running over Thomas Jefferson and the Declaration of Independence. My words will work relentlessly like ants underneath Abraham Lincoln and the Lincoln Memorial. My words will fly quickly like mosquitoes on the wings of Alexander Hamilton and the U.S. Treasury. My words will burrow deep as ticks into Andrew Jackson and the White House. My words will irk them like wasps, weaving nests in Ulysses S. Grant and the U.S. Capitol. My words will hunt them and snare them like hungry spiders spinning their deadly webs on Benjamin Franklin and the Hall of Independence.

I curse the guilty. I curse their names and their houses. I spit on them. I spew out my HATRED and SORROW that it may stick to them and burn like white phosphorus, that their filthy money may take fire and burn in their hands, in their pockets and in their vaults.

In the name of Gold, Paper, Cotton and Ink I call upon all the spiders and insects of the Earth to rise up in swarms and swallow those who bake their bread with bone meal.

I curse them and I curse them again.

Saturday, July 29, 2006

Finnmärck in a nutshell

- A Volkswagen Odyssey -

Have you ever been to Finnmärck? It's a beautiful country, inhabited by attractive idiots. You should definitely come. You look like you need a vacation.

Why not get yourself a green Volkswagen for this magical journey? Let me put it another way: Get a green Volkswagen or the troll will devour you.

You must pass through the Wisswass Grotto to higher ground. It is an enchanted place, and practically troll free these days.

Finnmärck has several high standard golf courses, some of them rated among the best in the topmost part of Northern Europe. There are both parkland and woodland courses, nine and eighteen hole. Some of them are situated on hillsides and have a magnificent view of the valley below.

The eerie landmarks of an ancient culture will show you the way. Look for a sign in the clouds.

Pay the troll. Did I say troll? I meant toll. Pay the toll, and be quick about it!

When you reach the plateau you will hear Volk music. Volk music is a musical genre with rich traditions in Finnmärck. Often the Volk music is related to local events, mountain farm life and the toil of daily duties. It is part of everyday life, an applied form of music that animates people’s surroundings! Volk music helps preserve the old traditional music, but at the same time the Volk musicians constantly obtain new impulses and continue to develop their style.

The twin ravens follow you on the way to the foothills of destiny, bringing tidings of your journey back to their master who dwells in shadow. Don’t feed the birds. Never feed the birds.

This is the Sherpa who will take you to the top of the Væærdisckäping. You think I’m kidding, don’t you? No my friend, this is an authentic Sherpa. He isn’t cheap, either. Keep your cash handy.

Keep walking: Finnmärck is synonymous with great contrasts. One moment there is peace and quiet, while the next is filled with world-class cultural events and pulsating summer fair activities. Picture yourself in a canoe on a quiet mountain lake, or rafting on wild rapids accompanied by other adventurers. Whatever you do, keep walking.

OK, you can open your eyes now.

Open your eyes. There are storfs on the glacier.

Traverse the glacier and follow the fjord inland. Remember that food traditions are important in Finnmärck, as some of the best, local agricultural produce originates right here. The meal is an integral part of the genuine Finnmärck experience.

Many of the operators in the region take great pains to provide a unique and TOTAL food experience for their guests. One of the most well-known is Bjärne Gätekjökken, with his philosophy of genuine and original taste which governs his Dödens Pölse concept (Natural Cooking). He and many other local cooks work meticulously to keep old food traditions alive. The so-called cultural farms are excellent examples of this type of work.

Don't forget your rain coat, and keep in mind that while tradition certainly forms a solid base for Finnmärscker cuisine, local cooks also emphasise innovation. This goes for the meal itself as well as the TOTAL product of which food is only one part.

All regional operators are proud to offer traditional food from their area, and work to ensure their visitors an exceptional experience by preparing the food from scratch and using only local produce. This creates a unique framework for the TOTAL food experience.

Drive carefully if you ever want to find your way back to civilization.

Or whatever you want to call it.

Finnmärck also has a long woodcarving tradition. Examples of the old building styles are seen throughout the valleys of this great nation even today. The burnt, weather-beaten log houses with either slate or turf roofs, the beautiful stave churches and the rose painted and wood carved furniture tells the tale of generations of skilled craftsmen. Look what they did to my childhood, for example. They fixed it right up.

Goats are always a sign of something, but you can never be quite sure what it is.

Now, follow the green train.

Follow it into the stomach of the earth and out the other side.

You are now leaving Finnmärck, the land of the happy nice people. Tourists are welcome, foreigners not particularly.

Friday, July 28, 2006

Sneak preview

This is an exclusive sneak preview of a coming post entitled Finnmärck in a nutshell. It has an abundance of fjords, glaciers and storfs in it. You will love it.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

A game of hide and go fuck yourselves

Leve Palestina.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006


Sunday, July 23, 2006

4 versions of this today

"The Israeli population is virtually unanimous in its support of the strikes against Lebanon. Even peace activists like..."

That's it - I'm leaving

The kittens of insanity

Saturday, July 22, 2006

You must be so proud

Creme brulée

End of part one

This is just to inform you that part one has come to an end. It is over. Part two will commence directly and without delay.

Part two: Listen and draw lines. There is one example. Listen and write. There are two examples. What did the children do in the afternoon? Who were playing in the garden? What did the girls have for supper? End of part two. Now listen to part one again. Excellent.

Part three: Listen and write the correct day. There are no examples. Hello. Are you here for your English test? Listen and kill the Lebanese civilians. There is one example. End of part three. The transition to part four will not affect you in any way. Move along.

Friday, July 21, 2006

There is no front. Lebanon is the front

Defend the Lebanese Republic.
Repel the fascist invader.
Support the International Brigades.

Kiss the storf

This stunning African took some killer photos from our island adventure. There are many good ones of Sara, obviously, and also a few featuring me looking silly as usual. Check them out here, along with tons of other pictures from Alexia and David's high-rolling globetrotting lifestyle.

This one David took of Alexia at the tiny bar that I like.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Cocacolics Anonymous

The first step is admitting you have a problem.

Stuff I'd like to have II

A silicone hand for the birds.

Stuff I'd like to have I

Yuletide greetings and salutations

Now that Christmas is fast approaching, it seems appropriate to say a few words on the subject of world Nazism.

As the season draws near, I want to take this moment to thank all our troops deployed throughout the world. Being an old SS Sturmbahnführer myself, I have some understanding of how much you miss your friends and loved ones.

But know this: Each and every one of you are dearly missed and loved. You are in our thoughts and prayers daily. Remember always that you are fighting to stamp out freedom and democracy.

To your wonderful families, let me also say how much I want to thank them too. Their sacrifices can never be measured, or at least it would be very, very hard. You would need an extremely accurate and fine-tuned instrument to do that, and it would have to be very large. Processing the data would probably take a very long time as well, even if you had a team of highly trained specialists working on it.

So in closing, I offer to you and your families, again, my sincerest and most heartfelt wishes for a Merry Christmas and a safe return.

Sieg Heil.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Well boo hoo hoo

Ruler of the elves

Sunday, July 16, 2006

Religion is so five centuries ago

Start chewing


Julius Caesar wakes up in a pool of blood.
There are elephants in the lobby. They demand to be heard.
A voice says: 'You can't win. Drink the water.'
'Sign this,' the voice says.

Julius Caesar drinks coffee for the first time and likes it.
Animals are not allowed to vote because they taste good.
A second voice says: 'This is not the presidential suite.'
'Sign this,' the second voice says.

Julius Caesar is reading a memo by the pool as they circle him.
The summit is constantly interrupted by commercials.
A third voice says: 'You are the only white person in the world.'
'Sign this,' the third voice says.

Julius Caesar says: 'Elephants have always lived in the Alps.'

This will blow your mind

When I walk, my left shoe makes a clicking noise which annoys my right shoe greatly. I really don't want to take sides. I don't want to have to choose between them. I love them both so much.

Saturday, July 15, 2006

The sacking of Jerusalem

I am sick and tired of watching news broadcasts about Israeli military aggression followed by a detailed analysis of how this will affect oil prices. Every news channel does it, even the BBC, and it makes me physically ill. Once again I am reduced to watching the Swedish state channel for half unbiased information.

So, you ask me, what the hell is going on in the Middle East? Well my friend, this is the breakdown: Cold War contracts are running out all over the place these days. Apart from an increasingly isolated USA, Israel has no friend left on the geopolitical scene. America can’t support Israel with anything but rhetoric, not at this time, not with two wars going badly and at least one more on the drawing board.

Will a Jewish state exist in Palestine a hundred years from now? It doesn’t seem very likely anymore. Israel is no better off than a crusaders’ castle under siege. If she can’t make peace with her neighbours she will eventually perish. Not today, not in a year, but sometime within the foreseeable future. The current trouble will continue unless -

a) A fissure in the space-time continuum sucks Earth, this our crazy, blue planet, into a dimension where diplomacy works and morality prevails, or -

b) Terje Rød-Larsen and the rest of the team pull a rabbit out of the hat and the Security Council agrees on an enforcable resolution. The United Nations may be an undemocratic Cold War remnant, but at the present time it’s all we have. Robust European led U.N. peacekeeping missions to the Gaza Strip, the West Bank and the Golan Heights is perhaps the best we can hope for in the short term.

Otherwise: Escalation of the conflict, possibly engulfing the entire region in war.

Ba’ath-party led Syria is already in the fight. Jordan’s king Abdallah is a moderate, but there is the large internal Palestinian population to take into account. Egypt (from 1958-61 unified with Syria as the United Arab Republic) hasn’t forgotten the many humiliations of her past wars with Israel. Saudi Arabia is unstable, with only the corrupt ruling elite friendly to America. Iran, of course, is itching for an excuse to jump in the game. And then you have the squillions of trans-national religious and paramilitary groups operating in the region, all of them enemies of Israel.

Could the Arab world perceivably once again stand united against Israel? In my opinion it could very well do just that. But the USA wouldn’t let that happen, you say, and I agree. Not if there was any way to avoid it, not if it didn’t mean breaking its own neck in the process. You have to remember always that the United States of America is a merchant empire. To a soldier a pact may be a matter of honor, but a trader's word can be bought and sold. To the USA an alliance means nothing more than a simple cost/benefit calculation. If it becomes a question of oil or no oil, they'll send anyone over.

Be that as it may, the alternative to war is perhaps even grimmer: A return to the status quo, a relentless, slow-burning torture reducing the Palestinian people to the level of desperation required to make someone a suicide bomber.

Which of the above scenarios one prefers is a matter of taste, and perhaps of ideology. As much as I personally detest the atrocities committed by the Israeli Defence Force, I cringe at the thought of the potential retaliations carried out by Arab armies inside the borders of a collapsing Israeli state. If and when that citadel falls, it will be a good day only for the ravens.