news [archive 37]

27.08.2008: i just can't wake up before it stops raining.

and with the stupid danish autumn pissing down, it might become a problem. i miss the amazing summers end you get in toronto. they know how to let the sun shine. their leaves know how to crisp. it's just like it could go on forever. here we've been thrown out of the deep end.

i had a search referal today for "ive been egged violently...what should i do?". brilliant. but sorry to laugh at your misfortune and ugly predicament.

and what else? i don't know. what have i written? often i get comments along the lines of "it seems like you've been drinking a lot". i guess i like writing about people's crazy drunken misadventures. and it's normally always not true, i haven't been drinking too much. but i think in the last week i have. or more like it's been too often, what with parties and band practices every night. then yesterday alex gets in from a shit day at work and just wants a beer. after all, it is her birthday in one hour. so we had two beers at our local and i gave her a kicking at backgammon. but the next morning i could really feel it, this horrible disturbed sleep and alcohol combination. something creeping up on you. i blame the cold sluggish weather. i might try a fruit detox diet.

and now my version of office 2007 has timed out, ffs. anyone have a 'clever' solution for me?

26.08.2008: i made a sleater kinney compilation. it was hard. so i'm publishing the tracklist here:

the fox
whats mine is yours
the remainder
light rail coyote
youre no rock n roll fun
was it a lie
the swimmer
get up
start together
the size of our love
things you say
one more hour
turn it on
little babies
call the doctor
stay where you are
good things
im not waiting
slow song
loras song
the last song

you'll notice it goes back in order through the albums. that's the only way i could figure it out. but i think it works. there's some songs missing too, 'memorize your lines' for instance, but there's only so much you can do with eighty minutes. besides, it's too much. it's too many great songs in one go. but that can't be helped either. and i even did a cover, i'm that much of a fanboy:

if you want one, you could ask. y'know, it might not hurt. although i'll only tell you to go make it yourself.

anyway, all else is well. my language course is going slowly but surely. last week there were only four of us, which would be good except we're not a very social bunch. our teacher gave us a set of questions to ask each other whilst he went off and attended another group, only everyone just sat there in silence. everytime this happens it's me who makes the effort, talking to the tagalog speaking girl whilst everyone else watches, but i was too tired so i took the opportunity to fill my water glass. and when i came back everyone was still sitting in silence. but today we have a bigger group, some brand new people and some old new people. there's a chinese guy who picked up on that i played guitar and wanted to know what kind of music i play, but he wasn't satisfied by "loud". then there's a chinese girl who's ever so chipper, a guy from iraq and another guy from nepal. now we have trouble counting to 100 because people lose interests and forget where we were. i don't blame them. and i was too busy drawing squids. you just lost. but anyway, we're getting a new teacher on thursday and i'm a bit nervous. i like our current guy, he makes us do vowels. although he hasn't noticed i can't do the difference between u and y. my previous teacher spotted that straight away.

and i gotta say my new firefox is making me all warm and fuzzy.

25.08.2008: it was one of those weekends consumed in a single day, typical for when you have a party on saturday. it's all preparation, boom, and then sunday is swallowed whole. sunday comes and sunday goes, etc.

we had a party. and pancakes.

and considering its success you'd be forgiven for thinking we'd been having them every weekend, which we haven't. actually it was our apartment's first. funny it took us so long. but still, it was low key and that was nice. or it was low key until we got gate crashed and me and emil had to kick people out. but that was kind of fun too. one of the gate crashers actually left his jacket and bag behind too, including his wallet and money. what an idiot, but we gave it him back sunday morning. he lives nearby. also on the 'donation' list was an 80gb ipod and a camera, but i think we have to give them back. but not before i've stolen all the music.

actually, it was the salads that stole the show:

they were quite amazing. we named each one and wrote silly (yet comprehensive) descriptions. i should have kept them. or maybe not.

what else happened?

it's a shame there's no photos of me running around in my sarong, lei and eye liner. yeah, it's a real shame.

we scolded one guy, who happened to have a gorgeous tattoo , for bringing cult shaker into our house. and drinking it too. when i found the empty bottle i went around interrogating everyone finding out whose it was. once apprehended he was dragged him into the lounge for everyone to boo and jeer. he took it quite well. and got off lightly. then some girl stole the photo of jolle from the fridge, but that's understandable. it's a hot photo.

during the night (between 4am and 1pm) the house gnomes/elves came and did a great job of cleaning up. now i know what it's like for everyone else.

22.08.2008: at some point i need to do a series untitled "notes from a language course". it will be like this but in pictures:

i just need to sit really still. i need a breeze and an ocean. i need bubbles fizzing between my toes. i need no toes at all. i need the girl who speakes tagalog to not have just closed the window. i need to fall through it, the rush of air to cool my skin. i think i might sick up my cheese and pickle sandwich. chunks of vokaler and spit.

i'd cycled to school too fast on an semi-empty stomach. but anyway.

the last two nights have found me in bars. downtown copenhagen. or norrebro, wherever. these nights where people appear and disappear at random. where i have only one beer but find myself always drunk. where they have crooners or EMF's first album on vinyl. fucking joy division.

and we're racing through town on our bikes, dodging the lamp posts and hooting all the way. bunny hopping cop cars. racing the public transport and winning. we're lugging bin bags of fresh bread home and i'm wishing everyone could just be more honest.

do people still say "bunny hop"? i don't think so. i hope not. we're not living in the nineties anymore.

the half empty bottle of absinthe standing next to the oven appreciates a certain form of clarity.

20.08.2008: fucking love coffee. even when shit and bitter. plus mogwai for the pefect match. trying to work here, suddenly realising i'm too busy smiling to myself, off in the distance and fucking summer's lament. let it rain. we can just show them how much fun we can have whilst wet. come and get some. you fucking fuck head you. fuck.

helicon 2 says yield. denied.

"fire up the reherser"
"aye aye, cap'n"
"full steam ahead!"

i just want everything to sound like glasgow mega snake. but i don't see.. too much these days. (priority)

"and then we had to go outside and eat eggs". but the cheese on my egg is beginning to sweat. "give me all your ice cubes". "taller than the round tower".

coffee. tea. orange juice. beer. inconsistent weather.

what, ramblings? just go and never look back. "all of this is nothing compared to what i'll be able to tell you tomorrow night if i'm still alive."

19.08.2008: the summer's fading fast, and i feel i've wasted it to some degree. i can count on my fingers the number of times i've been to the beach or sat out down by the lake reading and synthesizing vitamin d (hmmmm, tasty). i miss chilling outside cafes with my book. and it's too late to rectify it, but still i took a blanket and a book out onto the grass. and there i fell asleep to the grumble of traffic and sounds of the bids. i've always liked falling asleep in public. it's very liberating, being exposed and vulnerbale yet relaxed and comfortable. i didn't get through many pages though.

anyway, i figured it's about time i copy-pasted the list of books i've been reading, since it's been about a year since i last did it. looks like this:

rant - chuck palahniuk
tales from nowhere
bash the rich - ian bone
four minutes to midnight 8
censorship goes to school - david booth
mcsweeney's 5, 6, 10, 11, 22
kingdom of fear - hunter s thompson
what is the what - dave eggers
the guillotine squad - guillermo arriaga
reminiscences of the cuban revolutionary war - ernesto che guevara
welcome to the monkey house - kurt vonnegut
getting off: pornography and the end of masculinity - robert jensen
no gods no masters vol1 - daniel guerin
please kill me: the uncensored oral history of punk - legs mcneil & gillian mccain
the princess and the goblin - george macdonald
the fourth bear - jasper fforde
the fourth hand - john irving
911 revealed: challenging the facts behind the war on terror - ian henshall & rowland morgan
invisible cities - italo calvino
frankenstein - mary shelly
first among sequels - jasper fforde
the fall of america - robnoxious
expect resistance - crimethinc
the informers - bret easton ellis
spook country - william gibson
jonathan strange and mr norrell - susanna clarke
snuff - chuck palahniuk
glatonbury festival tales - crispin aubrey & john shearlaw
in search of the world.. fire & lightning 2 - christopher hatteras
the secret world of terijian - crimethinc
the devil's anarchy - stephen snelders
a country doctor - franz kafka
looking backward 2000-1887 - edward bellamy
jokes told in heaven about babies - lucy thomas
utopia - thomas more

if i'm being honest i've not quite finished two of those yet, but nevermind. my favourites are easily 'rant' and 'what is the what'. but 'spook country' and 'the fourth hand' were also really good. there was a lot i liked about john irving's style and it's the first book of his i've read. and it annoys me, because one of the girls was talking about him at roskilde and i didn't realise that it was the same guy whose book i'd just read. idiot. i could have sounded like i knew something about something.

as for graphic novels and comics, a list that's much less comprehensive, something like this:

spoiled - claudia davila
mirrors - tessier & lafleur
therefore repent - jim munroe & salgood sam
notes for a war story - gipi
incredible change bots - jeffrey brown
one plus one - shaffer and krall
exit wounds - rutu modan
why are you doing this? - jason
cinema panopticum - thomas ott
after the snooter - eddie campbell
dead end - thomas ott
the tale of one bad rat - bryan talbot
we are on our own - miriam katin
planetary - warren ellis
american virgin 1 & 2 - steven t seagle
spx 2001
mome 9 & 10
chloe - hans rickhelt
tekkon kinkreet - taiyo matsumoto
new xmen vol 4 & 5 - grant morrison
batman gothic - grant morrison
new tales of palomar - gilbert hernandez
all over coffee - paul madonna
all star superman - grant morrison
ghost stories - jeff lemire
my own little empire - scott mills
transmetropolitan (all of it again) - warren ellis
escapo - paul pope
optic nerve (all of it) - adrian tomine
rex libris (all of it) - james turner
kickback - david llyod
24/7 2
strid decimal 0.4 - jakob martin strid
v for vendetta - alan moore (again)
acme novelty library 18 - chris ware
house - josh simmons
blue pills - frederik peeters

nearly all of those remind me of last summer. and only the last few i've read since leaving canada. why the dip in the autumn and winter? it's not likely the cold put me off visiting the library or the beguiling. which reminds me, i have a huge batch of comics (pixu 1, the last call 2, local 11-12, northlanders 3,5-7, the new york four, burnout) currently in delivery from khepri. it's the only way i can actually get to read them. the shops here just don't stock that stuff, and it's not exactly indie. plus it works out cheaper to pay $20 postage than danish prices. but whatever, i'm way excited about it.

and there's a fantastic programme on tv. a french documentary examining american history through the eyes of american film making. just so you know.

"they will never understand how washed up you feel on the land."

18.08.2008: the city has been busy the last few days. there have been climate change demos, fair trade festivals, electronica festivals, gay pride festivals. all kinds of everything. i missed nearly all of it though. too busy with language class, the beach and punk.

when ungdomshuset was still standing it hosted an annual diy punk festival called k-town. when ungdomshuset fell, the festival was relocated to christiania and renamed shittown, naturally. so that's what i've been doing, watching an endless supply of punk bands i'd never heard of, wishing i was in them. walking around in the dark, stepping in puddles and tripping over passed-out people. sitting on dirty floors with the air thick with sweat, the toilets stinking of spray paint. alternating between cheap and horribly over-priced beer. not to forget the dodgy cocktail that smelt of paint thinner (but actually tasted quite good). everyone in dirty faded black tatty clothes. not washing. it's been fun. a festival with the added bonus of being able to go home to your own bed when you're done every night. be clean.

some of emil's friends have been visiting too, so there has been plenty of opportunity for playing our crazy boardgame (remember that?). the pile of statements has increased dramatically since we last lived here and the game is shaping up well. it's almost time for the exapansion pack. i mean, where is china? let's go global.

on the friday i took my camera to shittown, because i knew after four days i'd have lost all my words, but of course there was hardly any lightning and it was way too dark. but still, i tried:

saturday was my best night. the sound system was better and there was a good crust band playing. plus a local favourite, for whom the stage was constantly over run by kids. and the guy who always gets his dick out, propped up and out of it. i almost got run over by a car whilst sitting outside the gray hall. that was great. and i almost ended up going to a dubstep night in the meat quarter with some people who i'd been camping at roskilde with (i still haven't written that up), but i was invested in shittown. the all weekend wrist band was quite expensive when in combination with the price of beer, even if it was organic. i should have gone with them, it would have been an adventure, but i was already tired and planning to leave soon. but then two hours later.. it was just too crazy to leave. getting hypnotized by the glow and spark of welding tools. dogs let loose, running around owning the place.

on saturday we also went for a cycle to the beach. i need to go swimming just once more, but it's not looking probable. the sun may be bright and warming, everything colourful just popping, but a cold wind blows and the sea is dark and foreboding. the contrasts are to die for. i should have just jumped for it, clothes and all. fuck it.

but the weekend's highlight was the bike wars:

some rough justice. and a thrilling waste of some beautiful bikes. although to be fair, some of the guys had trouble even getting them into the arena. it was proper vicious chaos. ramming, stamping and jamming of things between spokes. one team even bought a fire extinguisher into battle. and the person who came up with the idea of jousting on high bikes needs their head looking at. they probably need a few x-rays too. reckless and amazing.

i got bored and tried to 'pretty' some photos up:

but actually the results just annoyed me. i need to refocus. i need a new angle.

and i've been trying to put together a sleater kinney compilation for numerous people. it's too hard. you ever tried to boil each of their albums down to three tracks? i managed four, but that was no easy feat. even with ben's help. now i have to order them. i found the setlist for their final gig online and it totally broke my heart. i daren't even listen to the recording.

15.08.2008: you people must not let this happen - final phase of the transposition of Directive 2006/24/EC.

i don't know where to begin in trying to explain to you how important this is. we're talking about complete retention of all electronic communications data. there is no possible threat to a state that can justify this. and in conjuction with something like the NIR it will be the end of everything.

the data protection act 1998 and the privacy and electronic communications regulations 2003 have become jokes. already your ISP can retain your data, this has been voluntary since november 2001 under the guise of protecting us from terrorists. soon this will become obligatory and centralised, made readily available to any council or government body with a mildly skilled data miner, not just those heinous organisations listed in the regulation of investigatory powers act 2000, and now for whatever purpose they see fit.

if you've got nothing to hide you've got nothing to fear? we know this is bullshit. and in the fifty page document, the section on "human rights considerations" takes up a mere four sentences. it's safe to say your human rights have not been fully considered. they're being raped in the name of unnecessary and excessive national security. a police state is not a state worth protecting.

you are invited to provide a response by 31 October 2008. by e-mail to or by post to

Andrew Knight,
Home Office, 5th Floor,
Peel Building, 2 Marsham Street,
London, SW1P 4DF.

my other suggestion is to boycott all collaborating ISPs. but good luck with that one.

the frog is boiling

13.08.2008: i feel like i've suddenly become very busy. this is probably because i have. i'm actually turning down work at the moment. and i didn't even have time for band practice last night. tonight cult of luna is playing, but where is everyone? i don't know. i'm in on my own. i suddenly feel quite lonely. and tired. but it's only nine.

perhaps i should drink some of the awesome whiskey that my awesome flatmates got me for my birthday. sixteen year single malt. triple cask. it's great having friends in low places.

but anyway, last few days. most interesting is that i've started my danish language course again. yesterday was my first lesson and i'd almost forgotten how much i hate danish vowels. thirteen? what is wrong with you people? computers have just one and they do just fine. but it will be fun. and it's healthy doing something i'm not very good at. i need to get over my language shyness. self-improvement and all that. the teacher was a friendly chap, was wearing a tshirt that was inside out. but he's only a stand-in, which is a shame. the big downside is that the school has moved to norrebro, which takes about forty minutes by bike from amager, where i live and where the school used to be. i bust up my leg getting stressed and being late, cycling like an idiot all the way over there and not stretching properly. and so far the people don't seem as fun as my previous classmates. we were a good bunch. i'm sure the new class will be ok once everyone is less shy, although there seems to be cliques already. and at first i thought i was only guy, but no, the other two were just late. also there's a huge difference between everyone's abilities. some people have carried over from the class before summer, whilst others are fresh in the country and don't even know what a blødt d is yet. it's nice for me not being totally in the dark this time. i haven't doodled a single nervous black square.

seriously though. i had so much to write down. all these words flapping around my head. so many great ideas whilst chopping my bike down the copenhagen town back alleys. and they've all fluttered away. i'm blank. i want a new bike and i want to be a bike messenger.

actually i was going to write about batman. because i saw the movie a while ago and had things to say about it, only i couldn't because everytime i went out, the pub or town or whatever, it was all everyone was talking about (three hours? that's almost longer than the film). it was too annoying. but consider yourself spoiler warned. basically, my problem is that the joker's big climax was rubbish. the chaos had been escalating, it'd been building up so well, and then it just farted out of existence. the boat thing was stupid, it's an old trick and it wasn't big enough. and those people needed to die. should have just blown them all up. should have used an ignition timer. should have just let the joker win. maybe i wanted him to win too bad, i don't know. but batman's a fucking joke. and not just because his voice is so stupid, but that's the main reason. they should have got christian bale talking normally when he was batman and then all high pitched when being bruce. clearly that makes more sense.

i succumbed.

12.08.2008: i left for band practice at 7:20. and if i'd had lights, not had to change bikes twice, or if i'd stuck around to watch the episode of friends playing in the living room, i wouldn't have been soaked by the medium-to-heavy shower that accompanied me all the way into town. an extra five minutes late and i'd have worn my raincoat. but i didn't and i arrived already wet, destined to stay damp until we finished at some time gone midnight. everything just drips down in that room. i had to blow sweat droplets from the end of my nose. my glasses sliding off my face. five people is too many for that confined space. four amps and a drummer creates too much heat. and then coke zero spilt on my shorts and tshirts when we took the empties back to netto, which was closed anyway. not even cheap beer would save me. we had to watch the jerk in 7eleven refuse to sell jolle a slice of crappy looking pizza cheap, and instead throw it in the trash to a chourus of "neeeeeeeej". but it was a fantastic practice, and in no small part due to an old (and possibly original) member of drunken butterfly who's visiting from norway. it was a seriously good and noisey time. coming out, everyone with cramps and blisters and ears squealing. them all topless and steaming. this is the way the world ends.

but most of my least favourite moments involve not having my camera. like sitting slumped on that sofa teenager style, necking my first beer of the night, looking up at jolle hugging his guitar like an indie-rock god. sometimes i wish i could have my camera built into my face. i would capture all of you, all of your beautiful moments, and you would all love me for it.

and all these things i was thinking whilst cycling home. and how the sloppy front suspension makes it seem like you're cycling through clouds of molasses. but as i cycled over knipplesbro bridge, hearing the drummers playing underneath, like trolls, with their sound echoing out and across the canal, i forgot everything.

back home, episodes of friends had been replaced by 'american werewolf in london', which i hadn't seen but was in no mood for. i dangled the dumpster diving carrot and we were gone. our old local is still keeping their bins inside, aldi is still awful (shouldn't complain, we got eggs and juice), and the dogn netto stank. rancid mucus. the irma bins were empty. but the real story is that someone's had the audacity to put up a series of new cult shaker adverts in prominent places around our local area. i don't understand how they get away with it. every one of their billboard adverts receives a deluge of complaints, they're offense beyond the pale, why are they still being allowed? it just shows how writing to the ASA (or whatever feminist-hating bullshit they have here in denmark) is ineffectual, and the only way to combat such disgusting advertisements is directly.

i'm presuming that's what the vandals who did this must have been thinking:

what's wrong with people? don't they realise that someone has paid for that advertising space? if they disagreed with the message then they should have gone through the proper channels and bought their own advertising space. you can't just go around invading public space like that, ruining it with your ugly spray paint and cheap slogans. everyone deserves an equal opportunity to be heard, this is a democracy we live in after all, you can't take matters into your own hands like that. it's unfair and immoral.

yeah. here's a bust i wanted to do of their previous advert, but wasn't quick enough:

cult shaker adbust

it required too much measuring. and too much meatloaf.

11.08.2008: just got back from my first run in over a month and it felt great. sure, i was a little sluggish but i did my medium-to-long route and i'm happy nothing is aching. the sun came out for me and everything.

now i gotta go run me some errands.

which was fun. down by the lake there was a small group of people who'd spent the last hour looking for a certain street somewhere or other. i had no idea where it was, but since it was in copenhagen K i knew they were headed in the wrong direction. i walked them to christianshavn's library where they could get a map and proper directions. interesting people. then i was in the hardware store looking for wall plugs and this guy runs in bellowing something in danish way too quickly. i just shrugged. he stared at me a little bit so i explained i didn't catch a word of what he'd said. "then the joke is lost", he said. turns out he'd shouted "where the fuck is the shop assistant?". and obviously it was him. jovial fellow.

now i get to drill more holes in the wall.

the sound of friends is coming constantly from the next room. maybe the drilling will help. maybe the holes will make it worse.

so i updated the radio with a variation on john murphy's 28 weeks later theme. the original (from 28 days later) is better known as "in the house in a heartbeat" and has been used in a number of other film trailers and adverts, which is bizarre because it's such a defining part of the film and the mutual association should be too high for it to be used elsewhere. but nevermind. i like this version though, it's more straight forward. and i uploaded it because i'm quite sure it was a subconcious influence on the mammoth song. for a long time i was worried i'd ripped it off, but listening to it now it's completely different. all i have to worry about is some stupid theme tune corey keeps hearing his neighbour listen to which apparently sounds the same. fuck it.

anyway, almost time for my conference call to america. then i get to play some music again. i am itching.

09.08.2008: heavy rain lulling me to sleep. listening to cult of luna with bonus gunshot thunder. boom. i'm begging for one last glorious month of summer. but..

at least it cleared up for my our mammoth vegetarian sunday roast (on a friday) and blessed us with the most amazing light:

they're straight off the camera, just beautiful.

what else? i've been drilling holes in walls. but power tools are overrated. and sewing up my clothes.

and one of my bookcrossing books has been picked up. finally. and weirdly enough by the same woman who'd left the last book that i'd found. i guess bookcrossing is a small scene in rugby. and the other book, although it's not been registered (yet?), i know it was taken too. i left it on a seat in birmingham airport departure lounge, whilst i sat at a safe distance and observed. a few people eyed it curiously (cautiously maybe), but it was finally taken by someone sitting right opposite, a father of two who was reading an italian phrase book. i presumed they were going to geneva (but they speak french there right?). so now if it never shows up online again, i know who to blame. and it's not me.

that roast though, it was amazing. and the least good part was the stuffing, sainsbury's taste the difference, shame on you. it makes me so happy that our homemade stuffing is so much better than that boxed crap. we got the yorkshire puddings down too. all we need now is homemade vegetarian gravy. any recipe recommendations?

07.08.2008: back in copenhagen and i'm one day older. this is true.

yashi-hair flying all over in the air.

i didn't get to go swimming on the 6th. but then, who gets to decide midnight anyway? some idiot in greenwich who averaged out sunrise and sunset and thought he was clever? my birthday is about me, not some abstract position relative to the sun. so i made the beach withn't an hour to spare, half nine this morning (recognising the time difference of course). a stupid tradition maybe, but i just love swimming. and no, it's not a birth metaphor. no amniotic fluid. no rebirth. nothing. just me and the sea all mixed up in with the sky. upside down and the light bouncing around all over everywhere. not a soul around.

so i mentioned we were making giant scrabble:

now we've finished it:

don't even think about asking how many hours it took.

and we just came into possesion of somewhere between three and four hundred videos. carried down too many flights of stairs. sift and filtered. my only hope is that i don't get to watch even a fraction of them. i'd like to think my time is worth more than that.

there's no death race 2000 though, which i really want to watch. because some jerk thought it'd be a good idea to remake it.

04.08.2008: just over four years ago i was using an external 40gb harddrive. quite big at the time, it held all my music, photos and movies. it supplemented my 14gb laptop harddrive perfectly. only i relied on it a little too much, and when it died (i'm still blaming the dodgy electrics our landlord had wired up) it took all my data with it. it's true that you only start backing up your data properly once you've suffered such a disaster. these things, they kind of can't be helped.

i tried almost everything, short of taking it to a data recovery specialist or hacking the box apart. i didn't want to face the possibility that it was irreversibly damaged and my photographs, which i cared most about, were irretrievable. i was gutted.

so four and a half years later, whilst clearing out the house, i come across it again and don't know what to do with it. i figure i'll give it to my dad to break irreversibly. kill or cure. and since i wouldn't be writing about it if he hadn't managed to have fixed it, it's quite obvious what happened. i drank a coffee and ran around the house overly excited and hyperactive. once dismantled, the drive was reconfigured as a slave and hooked up to an old computer which managed to it fire up. only the machine has no network card, dvd burner or any other easy form of mass data transfer. i had to wipe my ipod and use that to carry all the data over to my laptop, which is now dangerously full. a bit like johnny mnemonic. but in the film, not the book. and using all these different operating systems is starting to confuse me. three is one too many.

so, if you've received a strange email from me with an even stranger picture attached, you now know why.

what i was going to write about was scrabble and seeing aimee and grilly. the scrabble can wait, but i can't let two of my best friends be eclipsed on my blog by a small miracle of data recovery. but what to say? that's my time, not yours.

i'd rather go read my old diaries and listen to mogwai. layered over recovered photos you can almost taste 2003. fool myself into thinking i used to be more eloquent at expressing my emotions, when really it was only because they were so one dimensional. brighton was a time. and i was an idiot. and there's so many questions i'll never have the answers too now. it's a shame. "go back to your room, play with your toys and your costumes".

i should post some old photos, but they're mostly of ben looking moody.


pyramid song can still give me goosebumps. and an autumn morning breeze, despite it barely being august.

oh, and i'm probably back in copenhagen. or almost. go.

01.08.2008: i just have to copypaste this:

U.S. federal agents have been given new powers to seize travelers' laptops and other electronic devices at the border and hold them for unspecified periods the Washington Post reported on Friday.

Under recently disclosed Department of Homeland Security policies, such seizures may be carried out without suspicion of wrongdoing, the newspaper said, quoting policies issued on July 16 by two DHS agencies.

Agents are empowered to share the contents of seized computers with other agencies and private entities for data decryption and other reasons, the newspaper said.

DHS officials said the policies applied to anyone entering the country, including U.S. citizens, and were needed to prevent terrorism.

the emphasis is mine. but it kind of needs no further comment. except this excellent quote from phil dunkelberger (which my dad found here), "A lot of places in the world, including China, don't have the same view of personal space and privacy that we do in the United States". it doesn't make sense coming from the CEO of the PGP corporation. no, not really. it's all a bit worrying.

like when in you're in sainsburys (yes, again) and you see the crustless bread for sale. this isn't bread cooked in a special way to avoid having a crust, it's been pre-cut. it's perfectly rectangular. it ensures your children eat all of their sandwich. i want to die.

and "let's go down that aisle again. i'm going down that aisle again. she was well fit".

last night we took nan out for dinner at an annoyingly inconsistent pub (we go there because she likes the fish and chips). they were running a competition where you could win a cow.

i want a cow.

31.07.2008: as well as chuch palahniuk, i've also been reading 'glastonbury festival tales'. more books should be written/compiled as oral histories, it's an irresistible style. history from the bottom up. everyone speaking for themselves, their personalities shining, with raw emotions and opinions that aren't being filtered through a single author (there's always selection and editing of course, but still). it's all about the patchwork.

the glastonbury book is great though. reading back through the years, the evolution of the festival exactly how i remember, but told from a vantage point that can actually make sense of it all. and when i said roskilde could rival glastonbury i was simply wrong. a victim of it's own success it may be, maybe just a sign of the times, but glastonbury still has so much texture. it's hard to explain without using some kind of spiritual sounding metaphor, and then it'd just sound a bit wank. but the following paragraph made a lot of sense to me:

Mobile phones have made a big difference, I've really noticed that. Now you actually find people. Society has brought about this change. The vibe isn't to lose youself anymore - it's to party with the friends you know. It's like you don't have to find you way home now, you ring your dad to come and pick you up. Once you went to lose yourself, now it's a found weekend. Because it's easier to stick with what you know and people aren't so open. The bulk of people have credit cards, phones and their mates.

anyway, the book made me realise how much i missed the festival. all those stones, drumming through the whole night, the pink sky in the morning before bed, the corner of the market by the cider bus, the fucking chaos, but everyone remaining your friend. even the slammers. fuck it.

and i guess i've been missing toronto a little bit too, looking through all my books i read whilst i was there, the smell of kensington still trapped between their pages. and reading my old journal entries too. whatever reason for, i don't know.

here in rugby. i've started sorting out some of my old junk. "junk". i found some old photos and some old mixtapes. some fantastic mogwai compilations (hence the post's title). old lighters (one i stole from rhys, i can't remember the significance of the others), bracelets, nail varnish, bits of old torn clothes. what i remember as being my first proper transformer and hundreds of tiny digimon. boxes of badly labelled tapes, broken up zoids, blister packs of old paracetamol (?). a bag of rocks and stones, although most of those ended up being thrown from the top floor window into the front garden, to grow as if they were seeds (sorry mum).

i took a bunch of photos. initially just of stuff i was throwing out, for posterity like, but then just because i got into the habit. because i could.

the snoopy is a rather cool lampshade. the weird robot is george, a programmable robot which hasn't worked for at least a decade. the tin box, or whatever metal it is, that's from morocco. the thing inside it was the last tie from my a-level exams. or actually it might have been my degree. i can't even remember, so what's the point in keeping it? i kept it anyway. everything else is self explanatory.

it just started to rain. must be bed time. but then i guess that sound could be anything.

29.07.2008: i woke up with a plan. after getting the obligatory morning stuff out the way (breakfast & internet) i'd go hang out with my nan, and on the way over i'd pop by the charity shops and buy the two books i'd seen last week - heat by george monbiot and dawkin's god delusion. it's good that you can get quality books like that in the charity shop, but i decided it'd be even better if you could find them just lying around. because they're both books that need to be read by people who won't buy them (not even from a charity shop?). so i'm bookcrossing them. i'm going to leave 'heat' in birmingham airport departure lounge (is this sensible? will it just get thrown away or blown up in a controlled explosion?), but have no idea where to leave the god delusion. a sunday school? actually, i might be sensible and leave it on the bookswap shelf in summersaults, that way it'll definately get taken by someone who will read it and pass it on. any good ideas?

anyway, here's the current state of my sick list of things to do when back in england:

  • see friends
  • eat at a chippy
  • eat all-day vege breakfast
  • eat jacket potato with cheese and beans
  • eat cheese and onion pasty
  • eat at an indian restaurant
  • eat oat cakes
  • eat take-out pizza
  • go to london
  • go to brighton
london and brighton would normally be broken down into sub-items, such as "go to dave's comics", but since i'm not making it this time i've left them unexpanded. sorry, this is really boring. fuck.

aphid just landed on my glasses.

which reminds me, i'm trying to save the bonsai tree, but it's not going well. fucking spides mites. or whatever. there's barely a leaf left on it. it's dry and twisted and tragic. and as the third pan of water soaks into the cracked soil it glistens, relfecting a thousand suns, like galaxies. and none of which will do it any good.

27.07.2008: so i fell asleep. martin was due around at any moment and i figured i could just collapse. splayed out across my bed, now in the shade, and i was gone..

an indeterminate amount of time late i'm woken by the doorbell and it's like being dragged backwards out of death. it felt like i'd been lying there for the last eight years, like i'd never left. it was weird and horrible and i didn't have a clue what was going on.

this is how all the greatest parties start.

it took a while, but i finally came around, not even noticing the two pints of water i drank. we carried the amps and equipment upstairs, and by the time all that was set up corey had arrived. it's been a long time since we played together, and bruised pilgrim has made him tight. it's not fair and i'm quite jelous. also martin has bought himself a ridiculous and amazing guitar pedal that makes anything sound good. and i'd forgotten how good my trace elliot stack sounds. probably because i never used to play it at the volume necessary to hit those punchy tones. and with the windows open (it still way too hot) we owned the street. we jammed out a few milkill classics, what bits we could jokily remember, and it's a real shame we didn't have this equipment and talent before. we could have been amaz.. better than we were.

then ben came along and ruined it for everyone. actually, that happened after we'd ordered two huge 16" pizzas and got started on the wine and beer. smashed out 'come to daddy' like we'd never been able to before, me using my tiny but brutal smokey pre-amp for distortion, throwing in some 'my father my king'. trying to deafen everyone else in the world. take that vicarage road.

then ben ruined it, by arriving and forcing us to come downstairs and be sociable (actually it was nothing like that, but he doesn't have a blog). and that was the rest of the night, sitting in the garden argueing about films and music. same as it ever was. actually, we were doing ok until my three 'mates of state' albums ran out. why is it that only me and corey like nasty loud and violent music?

all added up, i made 16 hotshots that night (coffee, galliano and squirty cream), we broke two wine glasses, listened to 'the bridge' (kirsten ketsjer) four times (but not all the way through), ate 32 inches of pizza (maths people shut up), listened to ben talk crap for one two hours (it's probably for the best he doesn't have a blog), and stayed up until about five.

that gives the party a rating of 62 (a bonus point for valpony being so funny it hurt so much i was nearly sick, thanks mim).

but i don't mean to pick on ben. it's just that when given his second hotshot he downed it straight away before anyone else even had a chance to take theirs, the greedy impatient bugger. also he's an easy target cos he so damn big. corey sums up the last hour nicely, with "he had a great rationale on my hatred of pigeons and the parallels between that and persecution of the jews".

it was a happy night. one that almost went on forever.

26.07.2008: the muggy morning heat is still making me groggy. i've started closing my curtains, which is something i never normally do. been having dreams about a grey dress. it's understandable, but you'll have to take my word for it. and been trying to write, but nothing seems to work its way out. it's frustrating because it's one of the things i enjoy most. and my ability to please myself doing it is rapidly disintergrating. i've lost all honesty and integrity. i need a new outlet. or angle. i need to read chuck palahniuk.

which is lucky, because i've got his latest book.

but i suspect, where that might have worked five years ago, it wont work now. there's something else missing. a mammoth of some shade.

anyway. the days have been filled with some of the most ridiculous backgammon games. one with the bar stacked six counters high (two of them mine), and then another with eleven opponent pieces in my home board. weird games, so crazy i had to take a photo:

that was my first ever win with a backgammon. probably last.

now we're making giant scrabble.

the clock in my room is so unnecessarily loud. not quite enough to disturb my sleep, but enough to annoy me whilst i'm awake. and i swear if i concentrate really hard i can make the gaps between the ticks longer.

and i've still got a thread of licorice root stuck between my teeth.

now i'm just waiting.

25.07.2008: i wake up with the sun beating down on me. glaring me in the face. blinding me. my head full of vague notions of dreams, all wild and amazing and so well-formed not half an hour ago. sex, death and adventure. but now not even a character or plot twist will bubble to the surface. i think i'm being cooked.

but really, you can't complain about having the sun back. because a couple of hours later the rain breaks through the sky and shits on all the people, busy just trying to do their shopping. so we end up in the same cafe as the other day, where we played backgammon, and it's sad because half of the people in here are the same people from before. still there, drinking their unfairly traded coffee.

where we had breakfast they deep fried the mushrooms. clearly, there is no god. so why do they do it? maybe the same reason they sit and chit-chat about big brother.

the antique store was interesting though. except it made me feel incredibly uncomfortable. one of the guys who runs it, he also has a business supplying bouncers to clubs, and he tells me that to keep the shop running he has to stock for where the demand is. i didn't ask the question, why he has so much fucking nazi militaria, but that was clearly his justification. he tells me he can't put it in the window, anything with a swastika, because it's against the law. we agreed that was stupid. that was when he was removing the flares and smoke canisters from the window, incase they're also illegal. but a steal at 12 quid. i always wondered where people bought them from. and so many knives. scary big knives made solely for killing things. they're almost hypnotising. then this amazing camera, the russian fotosnaiper. if you like getting shot back at. it's beautiful in the worst possible way.

no, but what really scared me was the old guy sitting motionless in the corner, staring at me with his wide bloodshot eyes, surrounded by guns, british flags and the iron cross. like he was there and he's still living it.

also, and i absolutely have to point out how ridiculous this is, the music to the watchmen trailer is a remix of 'the end is the beginning is the end', a smashing pumpkins song originally written for 'batman and robin'. oh i how i laugh. also cry, just a little bit. because isn't it a bit shit?

24.07.2008: lying in the hammock in the late afternoon, the air's warm and still and some vague water feature in the next garden makes a sound like rain. all the pros and none of the cons. later the hammock's been removed and we're playing backgammon by candlelight, a little fun tournament. only the cat's white paws are visible as she tramps around the garden path.

we'd bought the backgammon set in a charity shop for 3.50, a bargain in cream and shit brown. fake leather. the pieces are tasty and satisfyingly chunky. especially over an iced latte, with the board matching the coffee shop's interior decor.

this is my second third day in rugby and it's suiting me just fine.

the day before, sitting on the balcony eating bangers and mash and watching the sun set over the garden. the lawn in a perfect soft green and accompanied with lots of wine. so, enjoying the house and gardens whilst we still have them. not that they're going anywhere particularly quickly.

and some new clothes. tk maxx mad style. for the ultimate in sweatshop leftovers.

"oh, i really need to go to ibiza". like it's impossible to get around tescos without wanting to knife someone. and a girl with her head in flames, blazing away and running from the deli counter. mesmerizing. should have pointed her towards the spirit aisle. boom. old people wrapped around the tiny wheels of my trolley.

what happened in the netherlands? i haven't decided yet.

18.07.2008: so, as you read this i'm probably in holland. or the netherlands. or, i'm not sure. somewhere dutch and where there's a wedding party. i guess we should really find some directions or something. but our flight's at half eight tomorrow morning and we probably don't have time. we can wing it. i'm sure one dutch party is the same as the next.

so either there, or it's gone tuesday and i'm now in england. i will see you when i see you.

i'm returning to denmark on the 5th of august. that means i'm in copenhagen for my birthday on the 6th. the weather will be blinding and the beach will be restless. i hope you will want to come swimming with me. maybe we can make sandcastles. or at least go kick sand in some dumb kid's face. jellyfish hunting!

but anyway, you'll hear from me long before then. there is much planning to be done. undertook. or taken. i don't know. it's more fun not knowing.


17.07.2008: got excited today. got on sourceforge and got my computer armed to teeth with new software. i also got overloaded with tech-job websites, buried in lists of potential companies i could potentially work for. one almost literally next door. friends in all places. got thrown in at the deep end emailing a professor. all without leaving the house.

report just in, part of the mammoth has been spotted on radio emoware. she's on the run but we are in hot pursuit. and for the real enthusiasts you can also hear the (spoiler warning!) mammoth's end. the recordings are by no means proper, they were taken from a jam and they've not been at all mixed. i'm not even playing the correct instrument - that shit needs to be played on an enormous saxaphone. i'd call it a teaser, only no one but me and kenneth really cares about the song, so it's more or a taster. and it's a shame, because since we worked out the timing problem we haven't had chance to play the first and second half together.

and even after a six hour 'drunken butterfly' practice last night, which was brutal and fantastic in every way. valves glowing white-hot deep inside the amp, like stars in distant galaxies. we nailed our (now approaching) twenty minute song, an epic in three parts, on our first go. we then decided not to play it again. only we did, and it was even better. i got goosebumps halfway through the second part. and now we can't play for another three weeks.

anyway. when i was in what i think was my fourth year of school a teacher told me, and she thought she was being really clever too, "never use the word got unless you've really got to". if only that had been the most damaging thing she'd said. but to her i say "fuck you". cos i really have to. i should have written that in my exam, i would have got two points at least.

14.07.2008: there's a block just across from ours (describing european cities in terms of 'blocks' doesn't really create any sense, but nevermind) that i've been meaning to photograph for a couple of months now. it's hard to tell what it used to be, one building was a youth center, another a garage of some sort, then maybe a storage area or small factory. either way, it's now nothing but cracked concrete and broken glass, long abandoned by everyone apart from graffiti artists and the occasional squatter. and to be honest, it's probably never seen better days.

i only covered about half of the grounds and didn't even get to photograph the main pieces i wanted. we arrived at the same time as an unavoidably suspicious looking black car, and had absolutely no desire to get into any kind of discussion with them, whatever their business was. but by the time we'd rounded the back of the buildings the car had gone. i thought they'd left, but all they'd done was park inside one of the garages. ten minutes later i saw them through a couple of broken windows, slowly cruising along and clearly having spotted us. we left quickly through a cut in the fence, trying not to look too paranoid, but probably failing completely. we even took a funny route home, but nevermind that.

it was good to get out and shoot again. it had been time.

i think the summer has been stolen from us. at least that's what it feels like at 3am when you're woken up by cats fighting underneath your window and the air has chilled whatever skins not hiding beneath the duvet. it's also been a long time since i saw the sunrise from the wrong side of sleep (ok, a week maybe). the spirit has been lost.

12.07.2008: it's almost two years to the day since we last sneaked into tivoli, when we discovered the 'wagamamas free entry scam' (making inventive use of their second entrance). but this is purely a coincidence and nothing to do with why we did it again, and this time doing it properly. five of us plain sailing. the only problem is riding the attractions (up to 60kr a pop), and the all-you-can-ride wristbands costing an unexcusable 200kr. the place just eats money, it's digusting. so we paid for only three wristbands, making sure we put them on nice and loose. it makes you wonder why everyone else is so well behaved (wealthy). or maybe they're not. we'd not been there an hour when a guy working one of the stalls leant over and gave emil a bunch of free tokens, an "anti-fascist discount (i like your tshirt)". i even found an abandoned beer in the toilet, proving the theme park provides everything for those not willing to pay. of course i didn't take it.

it was a fun time. riding the demon through so many red chinese laterns, bobbing around and way more exciting at night. copenhagen upside down, hurtling past at 50 miles an hour. then racing towards you approaching terminal velocity. but that's a different ride entirely, a stupid one 63 metres straight down, the only ride that can still unsettle me. and almost the only one worth going on. except the carousel 80 metres in the air, so high you can smell the sea. and it would give you an amazing view over the city if only they'd let you take your glasses on the ride and it didn't spin so damn fast. is that the train station? shit, it is.

what else. mostly sitting around in fisk (where the kids volunteer) drinking expensive but fairly traded latte and discussing the relative merits of different types of coffee. and why their kaffe au lait is the same as the kaffa latte, but in a smaller glass.

also one of the best games of backgammon i've had in a long time. remember when i was in riba and one of alex's friends repeatedly kicked my ass? she's visiting at the moment, before they go off to berlin (everyone is going to berlin), and we had a rematch that seemed to go on for hours. it was back and forth, i was rolling doubles when i didn't want them, riding the low end of a gnarly improbability curve. i was doomed right up until the penultimate roll, if she'd asked if i wanted to double i'd have been forced to forfeit. but then came the double four. backgammon magic. it made me wish we'd recorded the moves.

anyway, i'm finding it difficult to write because i keep getting distracted. distracting myself. but my website used to be the distraction. what has happened?

09.07.2008: so i'm prescribing myself a diet of placebo's first album (plus related b-sides) and plenty of mogwai. it might just work.

alex had a friend visiting, and yesterday we went out in the rain to visit the national art museum (statens museum for kunst), which has changed quite significantly in the last two years. presumably having finished their renuvation, they've expanded the art back into the old building, adding many new pieces and also letting them breathe somewhat - they're no longer all stacked on top of each other up the wall. but the dog sculptures have gone, which is a great shame, even if they did give kids nightmares. or maybe that's what i liked about them. i don't know.

we also stopped by abigails, the english food shop, for proper good vege sausages. and a pack of monster munch (7kr). just brilliant. we ate good, creamy mash and bangers. actually, since getting back we've had nothing but amazing emails meals. roasted vegetables and potato salad. frittata. homemade tzatziki. bulgar wheat salad. i just made curried aubergine bread rolls.

and it'll please you to know i haven't climbed up the scaffolding that's out the back of our apartment. if only because it's too noisey and i can't stay up late enough.

she wears her tears on her blouse.
fourteen sixteen twenty two.
but not for me and you.

07.07.2008: i need a social reintergration program. all this 'normal' stuff, it just feels too weird right now. i don't know what to do with myself. it was a different world back there, truly. a strange, magical and emotionally destructive one. where did it go? where have all the people gone? it's so quiet in the apartment the silence is freaking me out. you know it's been three years since i've festival'd properly? i'd forgot how special they are. the huge skies and the primitive lifestyle. the total social reconstruction. the twenty four hour hum. etc etc.

but coming back from glastonbury was never quite this awkward. i was never quite so.. missing. i've been falling asleep all day, not really been able to do anything. i'd have stayed in bed if i'd even been able to bear that. but no.

so, and obviously, roskilde was a fucking awesome festival. they've really got that shit down. i'll write it up sometime, if you want all the grim details (sorry to everyone i lied to, but if you ask me if i'm writing a diary, am i really supposed to admit to that?). be satisfied that i loved it. no matter what i looked like at the time.

it was hardcore.

now i have too many emails to get through. boring. i should be out jumping through fields and crawling thorough tents.

28.06.2008: i'm fresh out of the shower. so this is as clean as i'll be for the next nine days. no soap no fear. we're trucking out to roskilde tonight, to party in the queue and get into the festival site at 8am. it's one of those. glastonbury was never this hardcore. i'm not sure how we'll manage with all our stuff, with three tents and five crates of beer. not to forget the inflatable mattresses and backgammon board. but we will. here's hoping it wont be a rainy night. the weather's been pretty shitty the last week, but the forcast looks good at least. i've spent most of the last few days running around trying to find cheap string and gaffa tape, stuff to fix up our not exactly waterproof tents if everything goes wrong. it'll be just fine. worst case scenario is we float on our air beds.

i'll be back on the 7th of july. then i'll be in the netherlands from the 18th to the 22nd, after which i'll be in england. so get prepared and organise a surprise party for me. try and keep the first weekend in august free, because your presence will be required somewhere. it will be good to see you.

i'll be back in copenhagen before the 11th sometime.

26.06.2008: first it was a strange morning. i had an interview with the language school up in norrebro. half nine is early for me. but it went ok with only minor complications. and when i asked about my previous teacher she gave me a slightly too ambiguous "he is no longer with us". then i was to meet jolle but he wasn't picking up his phone. so i took a croissant and waited outside their apartment building, standing not sitting because of all the piss stains on the pavement, and just watching the traffic go by. then this fat dude cycles past wearing tiny blue shorts and his penis hanging out everywhere for all to see. a weirdly thin and long ugly thing too. strangest dick i've ever seen. and when i turned around the doors suddenly opened on their own. obviously i went in, and somewhere up on the fifth or so floor i found coffee to match my croissant.

and i bought a tent. then we found a tent, although it's actually more of a marquee. it's a humungous thing and is completley brilliant except for the fact that we have to carry it. however that is going to work, i don't know.

later we ended up back at kenneth and jolle's place, with an equally strange evening and night. and here is no place to expound and divuldge. only that kenneth lost three games of moopahchi in a row on chi. and we dumpstered a whole bin bag of danish pastries. then drunkenly ate too many.

at the time i had plenty to say. but now, nothing.

creationist asshole schlafly vs darwin-superstar lenski. that post is a must read. as is this article which covers lenski's work nice and concisely. i also noticed in passing, whilst reading up on schlafly, who is also the guy behind the ridiculous (and "unbiased") conservapedia, that two thirds down the conservapedia page on evolutionary (social effects of the theory of evolution) there are photos of hitler and stalin. that's real classy. unless of course it was liberal satire. who knows? you also have to love section 17, which is titled "Creation Scientists Tend to Win the Creation-Evolution Debates". and just to quickly point out the other problem with that sentence, creation scientists aren't scientists.

24.06.2008: i'd say the dinner was a roaring success. but that just goes to show you shouldn't be asking me. we had the best yorkshires yet, and the stuffing was as good as you'd have hoped. i wish i'd knew how easy it was before. and now we have a choice of five different sage plants to pick from. plus the english gravy from abigail's. i mean, we lacked roast parsnips and brussel sprouts, but it was still a damn fine sunday roast. company excluded.

and at some point it was the summer solstice. they had a bonfire down on the lake, people drinking and playing some jazzy music with a tuba that sounded like a double bass. and such. we got there a bit late, some time around eleven, so the bonfire was somewhat dying down. but it was still light out:

i love summer. so it's downhill from here on.

and then suddenly:

everything explodes. and then i slept.

22.06.2008: and you may find yourself..

staring at a rotating disco ball, shining in red green and blue above the dancefloor. why did i never think there were clubs in christiania? and really nice ones even. the singer from emil's punk band is djing and it confuses me. he plays chemical brothers and sugarhill gang. daft punk. music i miss from the good old brighton disco days. and i can dance in my new jeans, which confuses me too. this of course nothing to do with the tequila shots, many of which i managed to dodge. especially the first one, done in the 'suicide' style. how about a kick in the balls as well? boys will be boys.

and did you know i'd never been to the grey hall either? the number of times we've hung out in christiania, the number of times i've simply walked through it, and it took until tonight for me to find it. and it's massive. kaos were playing, local hiphop assaultage. one guy rapping from underneath a huge skull mask. although it's not a mask, he has a huge skull for a head. another guy walking around the stage, scarf covering his face, using a small can of deodorant or hairspray as a tiny flamethrower. lame pyrotechnics. but amongst the haze and hugeness of the hall, massive ungdomshuset backdrop, it somehow works. the beats are dirty and shortlived.

previously we'd been in floss. again. but after pissing up nextdoor one of was disallowed reentry and we had to leave. some scum wouldn't let us play pool with their balls after they'd finished anyway. that's a messy sentence but i'm not going to apologise.

at home we'd been playing the end part of eve's quest. the good bit. and i'd been rediscovering how much i love to doodle. and i'd been drinking my "strongest lager in the world". just the one beer. this is when the tequila suicides were going on. and i have photos to help disuade you from doing something so stupid yourself:

the next morning the sky disasterously large in all colours of doom. and no one notices. recently we've been blessed with these huge skys. skies. bloodshot midtone compression. tie-dye cauliflower car crash. a burning swedish flag. apocalypse is coming, you should be paying attention.

so we went out for cream tea, seemed fitting. in the strangest area of copenhagen, a mix of affluence and poverty - expensive cafes side by side with kebab and sex shops. we over-indulged in various forms of chocolate cake and brownies. then weaved our way back into town and ended up at a second cafe. a nice alternative affair, with vegan salads and beat up furniture. would be lovely if i wasn't falling asleep.

and now sunday, the most ironic of days. and i'm cooking a sunday roast. for the first time i'm making stuffing from scratch, and it'll be awesome. as will the yorkshire pudding. we have it down.

everytime i open the fridge there's a quarter onion dancing in the door tray.

18.06.2008: coming out of the post office it smelt like holiday. maybe it was just the lost feeling i was left with after the coffee at the bank. did you know you could get free coffee at the bank? you can choose between espresso, latte, americano, cappuccino, moccaccino and hot chocolate. the beans are freshly ground when you press the button. see, capitalism is wonderful after all.

the recycling dump has been good to us recently as well. we were just trapped there by a sudden shower, rattling away at the corrugated plastic roof, and a guy bought in an inflatable dingy. this started a chain of thought (rain + inflatable) that got me thinking about what i was going to sleep on at roskilde. then as if by magic (actual magic) he came back with four airbeds. the other day i picked up a second pair of diesel jeans (i'm so trendy, wait are this even still in fashion if they're at the recycling dump?), a bunch of art books (surrealist drawings etc, they also had a mass of communist books but all in danish), squares frames, the awesome guess who game, etc. we also got some funky square shelf things, loads of candles and some awesome pots. emil found a book about religion (which he jizzed over) and loads of videos. and a lamp with cherrys on.

anyway, for a while now a street behind christiania has been taken over and freed by a large caravan of people, building bars and boats and such. pirates. the message went out it was to be evicted the other morning so we went down to check it out. there'd been no trouble yet, but we had the distinct feeling we'd missed the fun already. there was a street circus set up, but no one on the tightrope and all the benches unoccupied. there was a meeting going on, hushed voices around a crowded table, video cameras recording everything. that kind of thing. it was quite impressive how many buildings they'd built out over the water though. i can see why they powers that be had gotten pissed off. can't let people have so much fun for nothing.

then we found christiania full of cops. we avoided the main streets, passing the area along the top of the embankment (ramparts?) and looking down at the dark blue mass, being stared at by one particularly angry cop. if looks could kill ..i guess we wouldn't have cops anymore.

thunder clap. we've been watching thunder cats.

which reminds me, although i shouldn't mention it because thinking about it now it's completely unastonishing, a cat ran passed me whilst i was out running (not jogging anymore) the other day. it was just weird to see a cat out on the lake. you don't see so many outdoor cats around.

and now it hails. boom.

17.06.2008: me and kenneth have finally sorted out our differences. it took two weeks of me dreaming in riffs, walking down the street trying to keep time with my footsteps, counting on my fingers, and i've finally figured it out. it's a 3/4 vs 4/4 problem, and i can't believe it took us that long. fucked now, extinct later. expect audio confirmation soon.

and i can't believe i was out with three myers in a row.

i am going to the ball.

and then what else?

i learnt the greek variation of backgammon.

have eaten cake at the royal copenhagen porcelain cafe, who do a damn good latte, although i'm not sure about the bear motif in the foam.

no, nothing important. sorry. i've spent most of my time working on the dumpster diving blog.

were not wasting paper [or grammar]
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