Sunday, September 30, 2007

Dr. House

Every second word on that show is a medicine brand name.

Friday, September 28, 2007

Baker Brun baker Bergen litt brunere

Demokratiet seirer! Det er nå klart at Bergen får ordfører fra Fremskrittspartiet, partiet for folk flest*.

Dette er selvsagt et stort nederlag for venstresiden her i byen, men samtidig en mulighet til å gå i oss selv og tenke over hva i HELVETE vi skal gjøre nå.

Selv har vi tenkt å bidra med det vi kan best: Psykisk terror, mobbing og pøbleri. SHÄDY ÄCRES erklærer fra i dag av uinnskrenket ubåtskrig mot Baker Brun og hele resten av Brunskjortebyrådet. Alle er velkomne til å slutte opp under vårt banner.

*) Dvs. hvite nordmenn.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Humiliated In The Shackles

By Sami al-Hajj

When I heard pigeons cooing in the trees,
Hot tears covered my face.
When the lark chirped, my thoughts composed
A message for my son.
Mohammad, I am afflicted.
In my despair, I have no one but Allah for comfort.
The oppressors are playing with me,
As they move freely around the world.
They ask me to spy on my countrymen,
Claiming it would be a good deed.
They offer me money and land,
And freedom to go where I please.
Their temptations seize
My attention like lightning in the sky.
But their gift is an empty snake,
Carrying hypocrisy in its mouth like venom,
They have monuments to liberty
And freedom of opinion, which is well and good.
But I explained to them that
Architecture is not justice.
America, you ride on the backs of orphans,
And terrorize them daily.
Bush, beware.
The world recognizes an arrogant liar.
To Allah I direct my grievance and my tears.
I am homesick and oppressed.
Mohammad, do not forget me.
Support the cause of your father, a God-fearing man.
I was humiliated in the shackles.
How can I now compose verses? How can I now write?
After the shackles and the nights and the suffering and the tears,
How can I write poetry?
My soul is like a roiling sea, stirred by anguish,
Violent with passion.
I am a captive, but the crimes are my captors'.
I am overwhelmed with apprehension.
Lord, unite me with my son Mohammad.
Lord, grant success to the righteous.

Sami Al-Hajj is a Sudanese national. An Al jazeera journalist and cameraman arrested in Afghanistan, he continues to be held without charge in Camp Delta at Guantánamo Bay. He has been subjected to torture and denied access to medical treatment, including dental care and eyeglasses. Al-Hajj had throat cancer in 1998, and was prescribed a course of drugs for the rest of his life. He has not been provided with these drugs since being taken into US custody. The Mohammad mentioned in the poem is his 5-year-old son.

Castles in the fog

This year the 1936 Berlin Olympics will be hosted by China.
This year the 1944 Warsaw uprising will be hosted by Burma.
What are the stakes? The stakes are the same as ever.
On this island the stakes are crowned with human skulls.

No dinosaurs on this island. No gorillas allowed. No trebuchets
To bring down Scottish towers of mossy stone. No smoke of siege guns;
The citadel hasn’t fallen. It is the graceful triumph of elusiveness
Over the noble science of history. The citadel is fluent.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Ready to go

Ehem. Guilty.

Für Malene.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Crew only

We are required to dim the lights. The Caribbean is empty.
There was a hurricane, then a typhoon, AND THEN a tropical cyclone.
The cameras are sleeping. There should be a palm tree right here.
No walls, no roof, no furniture, but the bar is still open,
Broken bottles, coconuts and tiny umbrellas everywhere.
Is that Hemingway buying daiquiris for Ulrike Meinhof?
It can’t be. They’re both dead. Or at least very drunk.
I can’t come up with a punch line. Tomorrow it's Burma.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Enlightened absolutism

If you’re wondering why it’s been a little quiet around here, it’s because... What? You don’t really care, you say? Oh. You’re not even a little curious? Oh, I see. So you don’t find my personal affairs endlessly fascinating? Weeeeeeeeell, I find that very hard to believe. So I’ll tell you anyway.

I’m taking the remaining 6 weeks of my paternity leave, which means I’m stuck here at home looking after prisoner number one while Sara goes to work. My friends ask me, doesn’t it bother you that you almost never see your girlfriend? No, not really. It’s actually a relief.

Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but Sara can be a bit much sometimes. The binge drinking, the violence, the constant swearing, fuck this, fuck that. And why does she insist on keeping her automatic weapons under the bed? Frankly I find it irresponsible, especially with a baby in the house.

But, my nosy friends inquire, isn’t it a strain on the old sex life - having a baby around ALL THE TIME? Well, to be honest we didn’t have much of a sex life to begin with. We just find the whole process disgusting.

And if it should get a little boring sometimes, we keep a poster of the periodic system on the wall over our bed. I’ll say to Sara: “82 Plumbum (Pb), we haven’t tried that yet,” and she’ll be all like, “no way, not unless you 37 Rubidium (Rb) me first,” and then I’ll be all like, “Forget it you pervert”.

But, my friends want to know, doesn’t it drive you insane, INSANE, to be cooped up with a small child for days and days? Well, I must say it doesn’t really bother me. It gives me time to plan my campaigns against Austria, correspond with my good friend Voltaire, and modernize the Prussian bureaucracy. I am after all Frederick the Great.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007


Trouble with the antenna

Here’s an update: We lost the election, and I even got to spend Election Day as an election judge, helping the idiots cut us in half. On a national basis every single party but ours gained in size, while we were halved. That’s a pretty clear message from the voters, don’t you think?

Thankfully we didn’t do as badly locally; we only lost three out of our original eight seats in the 67 seat city council. And Sara got elected as deputy delegate to the city council, which means a fresh opportunity to ambush the people we hate. So that’s good.

Also, Sara’s got a new job working in children’s services with troubled teenagers. She’s such a Goody Two-shoes. Falk, on the other hand, has four teeth and spends his days toppling books and gnawing on cucumbers.

And what about me? I am badly in need of a haircut, that’s all I can say.

Monday, September 10, 2007


Thursday, September 06, 2007

Send en blomst

I morgen er det 1 år siden drapet på Obiora.

Kom til minnemarkering for Eugene Ejike Obiora! Møt opp på Vågsalmenningen i Bergen den 7. september kl. 18:00.

Prest Thor Brekkeflat vil avholde mindemarkeringen. Fakkeltog til politistasjonen, musikk ved Tier'n og Lars, appeller ved Sara Bell, Samba Njie og Stine Akre.

Wednesday, September 05, 2007


Av og til er jeg naget av tvil. Av og til tenker jeg at jeg kanskje dømmer FrP litt for hardt, litt for raskt. Jeg tenker at jeg kanskje avfeier FrP for automatisk, uten å gå deres politiske synspunkter nærmere etter i sømmene.

Når det skjer leser jeg hva FrP selv har å si. Jeg lar tvilen komme dem til gode. Og hva skjer? Ikke bare bekreftes mine verste fordommer, det kan faktisk se ut som om jeg har vært for mild i min dom.

Valgavisen ValgFremskritt for Hordaland har oppsiktsvekkende nytt om Fremskrittspartiets nestleder, Per Sandberg:

Gullkorn fra artikkelen:

”Med dagens innvandringspolitikk, hvor man nærmest ukritisk slipper inn asylsøkere og lar dem spasere ut i det norske samfunnet fra dag en, er det ikke tvil om at vi utsetter oss for en potensiell fare i form av tyverier, drap, voldtekt, og i verste fall terrorangrep.”

”Ved å gjennomføre FrPs krav om lukkete asylmottak, vil nyankomne asylsøkere umiddelbart føres til mottaket, uten å få muligheten til å bevege seg fritt i samfunnet. Ved de lukkede mottakene vil de få en varm seng, mat, helsetilsyn og fritidstilbud i trygge omgivelser.”