news [archive 41]

15.08.2009: that night i cut my mouth on a nacho. embedded itself in the roof of my mouth. and the next morning my hand still smells of lime. clearly they never drink daiquiris in mexico.

these are all plans to take over the world.

but what i'm up to now is packing. i'm in norway all next week helping with the oil spill clean-up operation. i'm still to find out exactly where i'll be staying, whether i'll have internet access etc, but i'll be reachable by SMS via my uk mobile number.

wow, i'm spending a lot of nights on coaches this summer.

11.08.2009: determined to make something good come out of the five hours i'd been cruelly sentenced to at torp airport, the four dimensional squid was birthed:

and it made me realise what i'd been doing with this chap:

the transition from 2D to 3D, striving towards the next step. i didn't realise that at the time. my subconscious is clearly cleverer than my conscious.

10.08.2009: all day today trapped in my bedroom, trying to hack away at my to-do list. desperately failing. fuck all of this, i should be out getting sunburnt before the rain comes. i should be fighting villians. instead i'm composing answers to a stupid facebook quiz. my first and last is a necessary disclaimer. but answering questions with mogwai titles, i totally win:

Are you a male or female: helps both ways
Describe yourself: i know you are but what am i? i am not batman
How do you feel: lower
Describe where you currently live: yes i am a long way from home (a place for parks)
If you could go anywhere, where would you go? travel is dangerous, take me somewhere nice (helicon 1)
Your favourite form of transportation: i chose horses
Your best friend? friend of the night
You and your best friends are: punk rock
What's the weather like: summer
Favourite time of day: time and a half
If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: stop coming to my house
What is life to you: auto rock
Your relationship: angels vs aliens
Your fear: glasgow mega snake
What is the best advice you have to give: it would have happened anyway
Thought for the Day: wake up and go beserk
How I would like to die: liked herod, with small children in the background being hunted by a freak (come on die young)
My soul's present condition: now you're taken
My motto: may nothing but happiness come through your door

i'd be more impressed with questions as songs. but nevermind. the future is never as bright as anyone ever hopes.

"Slow-motion film of Reagan's speeches produced a marked erotic effect in an audience of spastic children"

my UK mobile company aren't modern enough for me to have a non-UK address. it's like we're living in the dark ages. i just cancelled my paper bills. i think that will be sufficient. and as a more quantifiable indication of how incapable they are, for the last eight-or-so years they've had my name in their database as lawerence. but nevermind.

but i do like the tibet flags the new neighbours across the way have hung in their garden. i should totally move our flags into our garden.

09.08.2009: my feet feel funny. but that's beside the point. the last few days have been wonderful.

on the thursday, once i wasn't alone anymore, we went for row up and down the christianshavn canal. easily our best row yet. all the afternoon sunshine bouncing around all over. bobbing. dashed ripples. not too overcrowed, my nan phoning whilst getting stuck under a bridge whilst a tour boat was coming.

later in the evening me and kenneth teamed up for some mammoth hunting squid seducing action. no practice for months and we're pounding it out as fresh as it's ever been.

friday was all over the beach party. long swims in the evening haze. beer and salt water. sand in the hummus. i'd made pasta and bulgar salads. then night swimming under the low pink moon. if there was ever a time it was now. i had 'happy birthday' songs from five different countries. the only thing missing was the bonfire. being eaten by the stars. the rave party stopped just as we got there. i lost my ball. photo documentation courtesy of kenneth, because i never take photos of myself:

saturday we were up way too early. breakfast in the courtyard with some neighbours then to the harbour for more swimming, but mostly jumping off the 5m board. completely enveloped in water, a small circle of bubling light far above.

some minor book shopping. eating chips on the canal wall. hanging out with all the tourists. it's just like being on holiday.

two hours nap and then we made sushi in the courtyard. no one else is as cool as us. that evening we went to the ballet. a public spectacle. contemporary ballet sailing slowly up and down the main canal. dancers on submarines, half submerged. blazing fire into the sky. a live orchestra floating along. a sofa and coffee table. distant fireworks.

desperately trying to make the most of the summer whilst it still lasts. all day today spent reading and eating in the courtyard, watching the neighbours play with their kids and draw terrifying chalk monsters all over the floor. etc etc.

06.08.2009: so it's my birthday and i'm sitting out in the courtyard, in the sun, on my own, eating fresh homemade hummus and drinking some special nutty orange rooibos birthday tea. it's all lovely.

i'm a little worried what the neighbours might think if they see i've hooked up my power supply's earth to the metal staircase that leads from the building into the courtyard. one of us has to be electrocuted, i don't see why it has to be me. i can't deny that it looks a bit dangerous. especially since danish people clearly know nothing about being earthed. we are all living inside apartment sized deathtraps.

and now i'm jealous because a neighbour just got back from the beach. i should be on the beach.

oh fuck it i'm going. maybe it's sad to go swimming on my own on my birthday, but why ruin my favourite tradition? and maybe now i'm 28 i can brave out into the murky darkness. goodbye land.

05.08.2009: in the end i totalled 40 boxes:

plus four guitars, two ammo boxes and an as yet uncounted number of records, which remained unpacked because, to be honest, i had no idea what to do with them. each box has a weight limit of 20kg, not many records, and none of the boxes we had were of a suitable shape or size. i'm sure the packing people know what to do with them. even the abnormal number of 10"s.

most of my boxes shyed about 1kg short of the limit. even with an optimistic average of 15kg per box, that's 600kg of books, papers, cds, clothes, and toys (i have the exact inventory, but i'm sure you're far from interested). why i'm mentioning this i don't know

the best thing i did today was buy a can of chrysanthemum soda (water, sugar, 1% chrysanthemum) from the chinese shop. stocking up on tofu. i've been in town all day soaking up as much summer as possible. visiting the comic book shops and hanging out in my new favourite park. i achieved pretty much nothing. it was great.

does anyone want to join us down the beach on friday evening?

03.08.2009: my coach leaves coventry at 3:30am. i barely blink and heathrow is bearing down on me, its lanes of concrete snaking up into the golden sky. i blink again and trees are growing out of the concrete. i turn to tell julie but she's not there. at 6:23 i'm at gatwick, eating breakfast off the stone floor, waiting for my check-in desk to open, listening to the "you are reaching the end of the conveyor" message that's playing constantly at the end of the conveyor. only in england are people retarded enough to require such moronic guidance. and they're hilarious when sleep deprived, so ungracious.

i wish i'd brought water with me. my apricot is dimpled and my bag weighs 19.7kg (i'm very good at this).

random shoe checks. i fall asleep when i try to read. i eat a flapjack.

leaving the house was easy. i've done it so many times before. i had some time to kill between man on wire and our departure, so i took a quick tour of the house, saying goodbye to rooms where necessary. but it didn't move me. some of them have changed so much since i was little they're barely the same rooms. my own room isn't at all recognizable. a butterfly or moth slowing killing itself on the flourescent tube. i closed the door on my out but opened it again. it somehow felt more right that way.

back to now. on the plane a young boy vomits in the aisle. it's silent, colourless and odourless, takes me a while to work out what's going on. i get a gratis cup of tea, unrelated.

the clouds are perfectly structured. through the window i can see them folding in on each other, the shapes inside them. solid objects. they are three dimensional, tangible. palpable. you can almost taste them, the point where they end and the sky begins.

it's actually a pretty good cup of tea.

02.08.2009: we dragged it all out back and set it ablaze. torched it. the flames licking at the sky like demons freed from the pages. exorcised and released. ha.

it's been an excellent couple of days. we picked aimee up from the train station and started straight off with a neighbourhood crawl. impromptu and being offered beer and wine from all corners. stuck without a dinner plan we ordered my last ever 'pizza the action' pizza (the all time favourite). somehow this started me talking about calculating pi, and someone tried to convince me (and my dad, funnily enough) that pi is exactly 22/7. he wouldn't relent, even in the face or irrational numbers. i just had to leave. and then there was my last trip to the merchant for a few beers. that was very nice

we were up early the next day, a blessing in disguise, to go have a neighbourly breakfast out in the country at some organic farm place. it was good, but the vegetarian breakfast was just two eggs, a tomato, mushrooms, potato and toast (which we ordered seperately but weren't charged for). where's the obligatory vege meat? and no beans? just crazy.

then began the hunt for grilly and rachel, who were slowly sailing along a canal somewhere around rugby. we had a drink with them at one of rugby's worst canalside pubs then joined them for an hour and a half on the boat, just a quick jaunt to brownsover before aimee had to catch her train. it felt good getting back on the water, even in the light rain and dealing with locks in a rush. we had our cup of tea, went under some huge bridges. fun with ropes. a happy taster without the stress of the warwickshire ring in just a week.

that evening was the stanford hall fireworks competition, an excuse for ginger wine if i ever heard one. terrible music and graceful khoom fay lanterns in their hundreds. lots of explosions. fleetingness. some of it was very impressive, but i still don't get fireworks. even done very well they're still just fireworks.

returning home i went straight to bed, too exhausted to even think about this being the last time i'll ever sleep in this room. the last of some 6000 nights. put in numbers, made countable, it doesn't seem so many. a lifetime. but these things aren't comprehendible. how can i answer if i'm sad about selling the house, when leaving later i wont be able to imagine never coming here again? but it doesn't bother me, i know that. genuinely. change is better than stagnation, the opposite of what i believed when i was younger. and it's been a soft leave. i've said goodbye to the rooms many times before. i don't need to do it again.

but maybe to the ladybird crawling along the edge of the roof.

now what, to do with the litre of red food colouring i have? i have twelve hours to decide.

30.07.2009: emptying and filtering. purifying. casting off. who couldn't have guessed that nearly everything in my 'important documents' file would end up in the waste basket? and so carelessly. it's a treasure trove of identity theft. goodbye UCAS. goodbye all the acceptance and rejection letters. goodbye council tax. goodbye all you scum sucking letting agencies. goodbye complications and resolve.

hello milkill transfered to mp3.

i don't see why the weather has to be so shit. we're not even in august and already the sky is drowning us in lament.

and who made books so heavy? i've barely half filled a box before it's pushing 20kg. all those useless trees. and still my shelves are full.

covered in cardboard box cuts, i'm starting to love the sound of parcel tape.

then at 2am every night the car alarm down the street starts wailing. i shouldn't be awake to hear it. but i'm still surrounded by books. five minutes later it still hasn't shut up. i'm timing it against milkill. they actually sound pretty good together. i always said we should have sirens.

29.07.2009: document to distraction. what have i even been doing? travel disintergrated the boundries between days and i got lost. the whole week previous i'd already been referring to as "the weekend". i was fucked before i even began. the backlash of multiple back-to-back festivals. i almost sound like i'm asking for your sympathy. ha.

so there was corey, and then later there was ben and mim. there was a barbecue with the better of the neighbours. strange, because it was like the old days except in someone else's garden. as if we'd already left the house. a practice run.

another day we had a great dinner out with nan. a different pub this time. one with perfect portions and a proper chef and a "credit crunch" menu. a somewhat obtuse sign of times? just ridiculous.

then there was the harry potter film, so dark it's practically black and white.

there has also been packing. but so far limited to the few boxes i had left over from the brighton move. russel (who i can't find on facebook) delivered some more this morning so i'm very exicted about that. yes, excited.

i have a box here that's full of empty dvd packaging. all the films are in denmark. it weighs 10kg.

today i'm taking photographs of things to sell on ebay. anyone want to buy a circuit board with 1" OR gates? an army of trolls? cricket subbuteo? a zx spectrum with all original packaging (the polystyrene will probably give you cancer, but that's ok)?

using this computer with the stuttering keyboard buffer and ghastly space bar.

here is two seconds of clarity on the most scizophrenic tape i've ever listened to:

colin: why don't you talk about coca cola?
laurence: i don't know, it's rubbish

from a piece entitled "people talking by laurence ashmore (age 9)", starring mostly me it seems. evidence that i was always an anti-capitalist.

have you ever noticed how much grant morrison resembles hunter s thompson circa 1970? it's amazing what a shaved head and some sharp sunglasses will do. i guess if you've read transmetropolitan this is old news anyway.

28.07.2009: maybe i should spend half an hour every day meditating in a different room of the house.

it'd be ten times funnier if i actually meant that, though.

but what of the many tiny books i made from single sheets of A4 and hid around the house? under carpets and behind wardrobes, secret plans in code. long forgotten and probably now disintergrated into the fabric of the house. turned to dust by time and insects. even the ones i coated in selotape.

what about them? i don't know.

but i have been going through all my old tapes. mostly unmarked and without boxes, bad copies and disgarded mixes. more like made obsolete. redundant (although not as bad as the minidiscs). something about those songs being on tape makes them hit the nerve just a little bit harder. when it was you who recorded them, in that order, with the resonance of the surrounding songs. like a nostalgic thumbprint. even fast forwarding through them, the songs in bursts and snippets. disarm. puberty. true love waits. fake plastic trees.

walking around (the new and hulking) asda it's like thom yorke never wrote that song. fuck you jake scott. asda saddens me to the very core of my being. it makes me overexaggerate this much.

i miss making mixtapes though. they can really break your heart.

27.07.2009: here's the place i know best. most intimately. i could run around this house blind and never trip up a step or bump a doorway. i could draw it in its entirety from memory, down to horrific detail. i know the exact colour and smell of every room. through every season. even our current one, a shade called 'aborted summer'.

and this is almost certainly the last time i'll ever be here. i feel like i should be doing something special. but at the same time, i've kind of done everything there is to be done here. the building has carried us well.

and what of rugby? there's no reason to come back here ever again. it's just a life-sized (and long altered) map of me growing up. here's the street i rode my bike down the first time without stabilisers. here's the spot where i first learnt that christmas is only once a year, right beside the cherry blossom that was always my favourite tree. here's where i first learnt the taste and pain of tarmac. here's where i always met corey in town before going to buy a banana milkshake, the town centre already drenched in cynicism. that's where someone first tried to mug me. that's where i first got drunk on several bottles of cider. there's my first job, stacking shelves and filling the drinks' fridge. there's the cafe i'd go one night a week for hot chocolate fudge cake, backgammon night. there's that park behind that girls house. there's where mark's ashes were scattered. the first wall i ever graffiti'd. the chinese takeaway that's no longer called the sailing boat. the shop i stole peanuts from once. that unfamiliar sunlight on the last day of school. the railway bridge where i chalked an angel (and killed a whole summer). the weird shortcut i took on the way to photography class. the steep hill i'd conquer whenever i went for a cycle. the first abandoned building i ever broke into (also my first school). where we were harrased and almost arrested by eight cops who thought our makeup was funny. that horrible club with the bouncy dancefloor that i'd rather forget, thanks. the baked potato stand, cheese and beans every friday lunchtime. the woolworths (it's true i only went in for one reason).

i could go on forever. there's a lot to cover in 18 years. but don't mistake this for me being sentimental. please.

i mean, there are still people i know in rugby, but without the family pull of birthdays and christmas (the only time my friends are all back here independent of me) it's not enough. i'll see people in france, i'm supposing. i'm hoping. but still.

all i'm really going to lose is the feeling of familiarity that randomly swells from the corner of a room. the minutely accurate mixture of smell, light and alertness that drags you back to some distant time. neither sentimental nor nostalgic. more like mentally falling into a photograph. being singular with the temporal space around you.

shut up laurence.

25.07.2009: it's 7pm when it's announced that my ryanair flight is to be delayed until 11:45pm, due to difficulties earlier in the day. always unspecified, non-descript difficulties. with trains that means a jumper. but it'd be asking too much for it to be true for planes as well. probably ryanair just spent too long argueing with passengers trying to board with 10.5kg of hand luggage. all those fives minutes added up, rolling over.

i can't understand how ryanair staff can work for such a dishonest and unscrupulous company. it's not the delay that bothers me, shit happens, but that they don't have the decency to deal with it in a professional manner. handing out the complaints address instead of the legally required meal tickets (after two hours of delay - european regulation EC no. 261/2004) is no way to run a business. breaking the law because it's cheaper to do so than abide by it. letting your badly paid staff take the brunt. turn over must be high.

she asked me why i still fly with ryanair, if everytime i promise myself i never will again. it being less than five times cheaper than any other flight is the only rational answer i have. i was about to ask her how much job satisfaction she gets when the customers have to balance their hate with their wallet? ryanair are pure distilled scum. they make me despise myself. perhaps this is what the world of aviation needs.

and as i stepped from the plane i cleary heard one of the female cabin crew whipser "fucking assholes" to one of her co-workers. we can only guess at who she was refering to.

11.07.2009: it's my birthday soon, which is nothing i ever announce, but people have asked what i want. here's my amazon wish list. i've been seriously missing buying comics. but i guess what i really want/need is a new lens for my camera. if it is the lens that's dying, with the alternative being the camera body. maybe a whole new camera would be a more sensible purchase. maybe the 40d is a whole lot cheaper now, since the 50d recently came out? i don't know.

we had a 'climate consultant' visit us today. this is a free service that copenhagen are offering to all residents and it's totally brilliant. he spent about an hour here, going through all our energy expenditures, checking our water, inspecting our light bulbs, telling us to eat less meat. he demonstrated how much money (and carbon) we can save by buying new lightbulbs, attaching free magic things to our taps to reduce our water usuage, and switching off the wireless router when we're not using it. he was full of great tips. like using the microwave more (it being more efficient at heating things) and to use less water when cooking, steaming vegetables instead (i'm still not convinced about steaming eggs). he also said we should look into upgrading our toilet to have a dual flush thingy. our water bill is massively high, but the problem is that it's equally divided between all the apartments in the building, so no one has an (economic) incentive to considerably reduce their water usuage.

what you missed yesterday (unless your kenneth) was our onion themed dinner. we'd just bought a huge bag of onions when emil went and dumspter dived another 2kg. i made onion and spinach pakora, emil made onion and mushroom pastry parcels, we had an onion kidney bean curry thing and then there was rice (with onion). unfortunately you wouldn't have known there were nine large onions involved. next time more onion.

and i guess i wont be updating for a couple of weeks because i'll be in norway and england. something like that.

10.07.2009: did i mention my band was playing in valbyparken, at the climate camp, on monday 13th july? we're set to go on at about 7pm and it will be a lot of fun. so long as kenneth has exorcised his jazz tendencies (left over the jazz festival) and we don't have to do it for him. on stage. maybe that'd be a show worth seeing. either way it'll be interesting.

secretly i'm a bit nervous. we have no idea what the crowd is going to be like. in style or numbers. and we have no idea what the setup is or who is doing the sound engineering. but worse case scenario is 45 minutes of beautiful noise. and that can't be argued with.

our practices have been rolling well. which is about all i've been able to do in the post-roskilde daze. i blame grilly, feeding me all these point-and-click adventures. watching the prisoner. etc. anyway. you don't need to know all the junk.

07.07.2009: so the first thing i do once done with roskilde is land me a shift at studenterhuset during the jazz festival. because i've not seen enough bands or drank enough beers apparently. this was straight after my final 8 hour fisk shift. but it felt good, serving beers out of a trailer, jazz and all that. easy work for a house card and five beer tickets.

and everytime i wake up i think i'm at the festival. there's some distant music pumping out of a car, i'm all hazy. our bedroom looks like the fisk store. tailors dummies and junk everywhere. a huge plant in the middle of the room.

the pre-sunrise gash. home at 4am. i'd been up at 9am.

but anyway. all you need to know about roskilde was that it was fucking hot. a full report will come at some point. and hopefully i wont do a repeat of last year, where it took me over six months, by which time i'd forgotten everything. but i've already forgotten it anyway. so nevermind.

28.06.2009: important things first. i'm now in roskilde until the 6th of july. then i'll be in norway from the 15th to the 23rd, when i'm flying back to england for an as yet unknown period of time. make plans.

all this running around, what i'll miss most is the ocean (actually a sea). the perfect gradient, sandy green to deep terrifying blue slashed with pale blue and gold where the sky reflects in the chops. the seas constant barrage. watching the horizon disappear behind the waves. them gliding along and gracing the underside of the jetty. all those bubbles and power, and we just jump around screaming like kids. there's little else for it.

and the courtyard slowly becomes covered in chalk graffiti. tattooed by children. although on closer inspection it's mostly the adults. all those creepy monsters. sharp bloody teeth and crazed eyes. all tentacles and claws. and you wonder why your kids can't sleep? the cocktail of adult fear and baby scrawl, it's like a madman loose in the courtyard. chalk for fingers and toes.

give me the acordian player any day.

it's 9am and someone is playing very loud very fast house (i'm not actually in roskilde yet). there's a festival in christiania this weekend, but i don't think the music could reach us from there. and there's all the graduating school kids driving around in their trucks and screaming. again. like it never gets boring.

i guess i should get moving.

if i did twitter or facebook, i'd probably write "laurence is looking forward to the dandy warhols' cover of blackbird". but even this is too much acknowledgement.

24.06.2009: at long last being stung by the summer (forearms, that's cycling for you). this is fantastic. but i'm not happy until the air is too hot to breathe.

we fled to the beach. on our rickety bikes. i'm almost surprised we made it. crushed between sky and sand. ever shrinking testes. trying to avoid the riff-raff.

language class is a pause in my day. it'd be dull but everyone has gone to test and i'm the only person there. i wanted to leave early, but i couldn't waste a one-on-one lesson. it was brilliant.

sitting across the lake from the bonfire, it sending black flakes into the sky, over the water towards us. emil managed to swallow one (by accident, of course). something about burning witches. the trailer for a sigur ros video.

then today. work started at 9:30am in fisk and ended at 7pm in studenterhuset. bad timing, two volunteer shifts in a row. and with the glorious weather everywhere but inside customers are a rare commodity. why am i even bothering?

anyway. the best thing about adapting comic books into movies is it can't fuck up the original for you. you can't badly cast a person into a role whose face you can never shake when reading the book. maybe it can ruin the voices, but i've never really attributed voices to comic characters. but try reading harry potter without picturing the film cast.

and if you can guess what book's adaptation has triggered me to think about this i'll buy it you. i love it that much. i don't even own a copy. and you know what? the trailer doesn't even look that bad (apart from the score). but still, it'll turn an incredible book into a hollywood movie. no matter how good it is it'll ruin the beauty and magic of one of my all time favourite books. i just can't watch.

22.06.2009: in the end it was just one night. the best of two days. sitting around the barbecue, hoping another person isn't about to put their feet on it again, almost tipping it. hot coals rocking back and forth. sitting on the jetty. kissing the ocean (actually a sea), more like being bruised by the water. after the third dipping it feels like my skin is biting me. playing go. being shushed in the noisey silent train carriage. retreating to my book. fucking burgers man. and the biggest breakfast we could muster. fresh air. acorns on the roof. 24 stupid names written on tiny bits of paper in a pan. i had the best sleep.

i could have stayed longer. but i didn't.

and i only took 21 photos:

err 99
err 99
err 99
err 99
err 99
err 99
err 99
err 99

is starting to seriously annoy/worry me.

coming back to copenhagen isn't so bad. big meals. rearranging the courtyard. all these things. i can't even remember what i was doing all day. it was just nice. and all this afternoon has been spent in the courtyard again. hanging out with various neighbours, talking over our dinners, sharing wine. what the courtyard should be. anyway.

19.06.2009: so i had this great idea for a nsfw html attribute. but then i realised it's actually quite obvious and a thousand people must have thought of this before. of course it has. but it seems very recent news that it's going to be in HTML5. i read up on it, and everyone seems to be talking a whole load of shit. i've stayed out of this kind of blogging for a long time and now i'm reminded why. the world is full of half-arsed twitters that explain nothing. you can't link to this crap by way of any explanation. it's all just jizz. you're all scum.

anyway, my idea was simple. if you have content you think is not safe for work then you add a 'nsfw' attribute to the tag. i'm thinking of images here (using this for links is nothing but idiocy, don't even discuss it. the idea is retarded and pointless). all you need is a simple firefox extension that recognises the tag and only displays the image if you click on it. if you wanted to be fancy it could use pixelation, with a resolution that increases each time you click on it. of course it relies on the webmaster marking offensive images, and i'm sure the majority of people posting nasty images on the internet can't html for shit (yes, 'html' is also a verb). but you're not going to get a better solution.

it seemed clever to begin with. then i got angry.

but just imagine an image search option that allows you to search for only nsfw pictures. that would be brilliant.

anyway, this week we're at a summer house down south and can't particularly be contacted. be satisfied that i'm having fun and plenty of vege burgers. hopefully some sunshine and some beach. and when i'm back we must discuss england and the escaping from it.

18.06.2009: the potatoes are singing to me. and the clouds have stolen the last of the day's sunshine.

the soap smells of blue cheese. my shoes still stiff from the rain.

evidently, in denmark the summer solstice becomes the start of the summer. something is a little too suffocating about this.

and the thing is, no matter how empty a tube of toothpaste is you can always squeeze out some more. i'm surprised the toothpaste industry didn't collapse long ago.

so the peanut butter jar keeps the current page fast, whilst the vegemite holds down the previous page. the pot of welsh honey is keeping the loose pages secure. my sweatshop army of condiment workers.

at least we have billie and ella. amongst eight crates of beer past their sell-by date. so i'm just useless here, whilst no one is paying me any attention. you have to stock rotate, in your stock room if nowhere else.

the guy in store. he's buying three cans of beer, three blocks of butter, two bags of licorice, and a bottle of oil.

"du har nu mindre end fem og tyve kroner tilbage pa din konto."

why does everyone stop dancing when the good songs finally come on? and how do girls do it, how they dance like their top half and bottom half have been seperate?

we're all saved by the ripest sharron fruit, dripping juices everywhere on everything (and in the most beautiful of dreams, everyone).

14.06.2009: all you need is a couple of consecutive sleepless nights and nothing. vacuous anachronistic sludge. 'dreams' on a five second tape loop. squelching through the fucking rain.

you find yourself in a bar with horny crimson skulls covering the walls. doll's heads for lampshades, their indentations lightly scorched. glaring a raw red around the eye sockets. fantastic beer though.

or a fishy basement, discussing how to deal with five crates of out-of-date beer.

or i could just keep staring off into the middle distance. i don't know.

in moments of clarity we go to the coffee collective and a tiny shop that exclusively sells independent danish comics and art. a shop that makes its own caramels. the rain eases up, but only briefly.

then waking up at half four in the morning to the bloodhound gang at full volume. me, plus everyone else who lives in this building. actual full volume. someone shouting especially loud over "burn mother fucker, burn". the apartment suddenly smelling of spray paint and there's a double sheet emblazoned with a huge swastika gaffa taped to the kitchen wall.

we managed a dinner party. but what we really managed was two large shepherds pies between the four of us. no leftovers, no surrender. this was when we covered emil's room with 400 dumpster dived post-it notes, all screaming "baesj". the post-its were my idea, but it was alex's endeavour. the large unfolded cardboard box with huge letters cut out (yes, to spell "baesj"), well that was all me. sorry.

and the french band. so very french. they couldn't have been more french had they been playing baguettes with strings of onions.

ducks with yellow eyes. elderflower ice lollies.

new rule: everytime i bookmark a page i must delete two bookmarks.

12.06.2009: i guess what i'm feeling is disenchanted. let down by a summer fallen lame by the wayside. all this rain is just pathetic fallacy. and very wettening.

this is why i'm writing in bed. just try and give me a reason to get up. there's not even any point in raising the blinds. we're trapped in the grey. summer has left for more adjective pastures. a more comparative love affair.

i've had all spring to play in the cold rain. it's really not necessary in june. and it makes me miss toronto, watching videos of asofterworld and slideshows of critical masses, all of it in glorious warm sunshine. and when it rains there, it rains like it's the end of the world. not this cheap english knock-off shite. infact, i'm wondering why it's england that has the reputation for bad weather.

anyway. i feel like i'd been eating well recently, so i just wrote up a list of everything i've eaten so far this week:

- homdemade museli with rice milk
- yesterday's curry leftovers (mix vegetables with tomato, coconut and soya yoghurt sauce)
- two carrots, a lot of raw brocolli, two celery sticks
- wholemeal pasta with spinach, sunflower seeds and sesame seeds
- fried egg on bread

- banana and avocado rice-milk smoothie
- lots of homdemade humus on bread
- wholemeal pasta with vege meatballs, lots of tomatoes and vegetables
- more humus

- homemade museli with rice milk
- egg and humus sandwich
- soya milk smoothie with carrot, apple and kiwi
- yesterday's pasta leftovers

shame i haven't eaten any lentils yet this week. that'd make me really look like a hippy. and same kale would be nice too.

i also wanted to say how brilliant my new language class is. like i've finally come far enough to deserve decent lessons. there's still one asshole (a new one), but he's going to test soon and will hopefully be gone. and anyway, he's nowhere near as bad as the ukrainian idiot, who will hopefully remain rude in module 2. forever. the new teacher is engaging and interesting and she picked me up on my 'u' before i could say "uger". and she's not afraid to pull faces.

10.06.2009: avocado and banana rice-milkshake is definitely my new favourite way of starting the morning (ok, afternoon, whatever). the banana really works it.

but yesterday, the is rain playing a miserable dirge across the cities streets. all afternoon. "the air scratched in straight lines, sky to earth". i'm caught out in shorts and hoody and have to skip out of my damp class early to make the best of a temporary wane in deluge. and also to make time for a warm life saving shower before my hot date with coco and rosie.

there's a thing. UV bouncing off the rims of my glasses. rosie bouncing around the stage. coco playing with chains. "hold your vagina, love yourself". hip hopera in ways rkelly can only dream. it was a show worth attending. here's a tip though, don't talk through a cocorosie concert. they don't play loud (the type of mics they use apparently) so just shut up. people wont like you for it.

then to the eiffel bar. who knew christianshavn had so many bars? this one isn't even that bad. it's actually quite bright inside, not so shady. and then for reasons i don't understand we moved to floss. smokey basement, obnoxious teenagers. just our crowd. i took no beers, me being now sensible, and left at the first opportunity for free bread from the bakery around the corner. their dumpster, at least. walking home, missing my bike, a hundred meters down the street i hear the call of "nah nah nah nahnah, skins and punks".

my camping in wales / uk tour diary is now online, with photos and everything.

and a quick warning, the kitchen is going to smell bad for the next two hours because i'm making humus. (and two hours later i can tell you that it's the best humus. it's a shame the taste can't easily be converted into binary. it doesn't get better than this, homemade humus with caramalised onion spread over freshly dumpster dived bread.)

09.06.2009: i should probably wait until contracts have been exchanged, but the short of it is that my parents have accepted an offer on their house. i'm not sure how much detail they'll mind me going into, but unless anything goes wrong they'll be moving out on july 31st. this is all in bold because it's important. big ugly wheels have been set in motion.

so to this end i'll be in england on july 23rd until an unknown date (depending on circumstances yet to unfurl). there will be boxes and at least one party. did you know it will also almost be my birthday. do you want to come help pack?

i was going to say "or buy me a truck ticket", but i think by then i will be all festivalled out. and perhaps my parents wont appreciate me running off to oxford either.

nevermind italy.

09.06.2009: i'm nothing but fucking startled by the election results. i didn't vote, so judge me how you will, but here in denmark there was a voter turnout of about 60%. the uk was what, 35%? and so nick griffin gets into europe. two fucking seats. and UKIP come second. haven't you realised you wouldn't be having such an economic fuckup if you'd embraced europe more?

nick griffin got one thing right, "there's a huge amount of racism in this country". except he finished the sentence with, "overwhelmingly it is directed towards the indigenous british majority, which is one reason we've done so well in these elections". that's who you send to brussels, a convicted holocaust denier? lips, trotters and assholes. the lot of you.

it wasn't all bad news though. sweden's pirate party received over 7% of swedish votes (why does it sound like i'm talking about eurovision?), entitling them to "at least one, if not two seats in the 18-seat Swedish delegation to the European Parliament".

in denmark we also voted on royal succession, whether the constitution should be changed so that women can inherit the throne if they're older than their brothers, as opposed to the current situation where men automatically take preference (i'd talk about princesses, but then it'd just sound like mario). the non-patriarchal option is obviously the correct one, but i'm a little confused as to what democracy has to with the monarchy? also the issue was complicated by a campaign encouraging people to not vote. because, well, we all know the monarchy is bullshit. i keep changing my mind on this. i will not acknowledge, legitimise or pander to the monarchy by giving them a vote. but on the other hand this is a matter of updating the country's constitution with firm anti-patriarchal intent. monarchy or not, the constitution should reflect that the country recognises women and men as equals. we can regicide the rest of them later.

as it turns out just enough people voted yes to the change, which will happen in 80 years (hurray for feminism, indeed). also a significant number of people made blank votes, making it quite clear people have nothing but contempt for those useless fuckers.

i wish i was dead.

08.06.2009: so i bit off more than i could chew on saturday night. took a fat chomp right out of my sunday. all i managed to do all day was sit on the courtyard steps watching a disgusting kid's birthday party and then cook up a sizeable sunday roast.

it started on the way over to jolle's aparment. there's a band playing beneath the bridge. just a keyboardist and drummer sitting tight on the top of a very narrow submarine. sleak beats and rolling bass. but a submarine. i want one of those.

i wonder what people think though. i'm not in jolle's room for five minutes before i'm commenting on how nicely he folds his shirts. another ten minutes and i'm sitting in the middle of the floor surrounded by lego, weird random structures being built around me. then i find the rubik's cube. if only i'd not found the ouzo. or had jolle not given me that extremely peppery vegetarian bloody mary. what it takes to replace the worcestershire sauce is not worth having.

so we grab beers (saving them from the freezer) jump on the bikes and head for a street party. passing a beer back and forth between the bikes might sound dangerous, but all evening osterbro had been a spooky ghosttown. and cycling under archways. bombing the city. this is sexy. and then the road is overwhelmed with people. whatever it is, a factory or something, it's a beautiful industrial sized venue. but we weren't getting in. and it was getting cold. deep thumping not keeping anyone warm. i enjoyed the journey though. and then jolle reappears with a double ended purple dildo hanging out the top of his trousers. a bottle of vodka in hand.

mistakes had been made before we got to isola. but that was the final nail, straw and beer all rolled into one. bright red into the toilet bowel. i have no idea how this happened. although the colour might be a clue.

about that kid's party though, an ugly rich danish family with pile of presents that reaches far beyond the definition of 'spoiling'. the child's main present was a childsize police car that could be driven around the courtyard. no pedals, powered by pure fascism alone (or batteries, i don't know). the kid could barely see over the steering wheel. we placed him at three years. the other prominent 'toy' was a water shotgun. it fired a single fast (and very satisfying looking) chunk of water. watching one of the 'grown-ups' teach the kid how to hold and shoot it made me want to puke (nothing to do with the previous night). he could barely support it himself. but what proud parents, teaching your child how to shoot guns. and aim for the face.

05.06.2009: tales of the butterflies. kenneth walks back into the practice room and me and jolle are both sitting down making repetitive noises with our guitars. we're trapped in the "ping pong scratch click" of our fake delay loop. there are two dd3s on the floor connected in series, but they're long forgotten. kenneth just laughs and comments how he can't believe us guys. fake delay. although personally i'm wondering why he didn't join in. some weeks later, after a gig, someone comments how it's obvious we smoke a lot of weed (i initially typo'd "weird"), and when we convince him we don't, no not at all, he tells us that we should. this is a serious suggestion. but personally i think we're fucked up enough, as the story above illustrates. ping pong scratch click. ping pong scratch click.

anyway. i passed my language exam. it was only me. i felt bad for the chinese woman who only failed because of her pronunciation. i can't even begin to imagine how hard danish udtaler must be for chinese (actually they're really good at the 'r'). i was just glad my dialogue exercise was with the indian guy, because i can't really understand what she's saying either. but anyway.

a very green little bug just flew straight in throught the window and landed right on my shoulder. now its not doing anything. it appears i have a passenger.

friday and we're on another holiday. kicking back and taking it easy. which reminds me, i had some important news. but it will have to wait.

a guy sitting in studenterhuset, who made me wish i could hear him better and type as fast as he spoke: "i don't know if this christian thing is working out for me. all it gets you is broke. a skinny guy on a cross starving with no clothes. that's what its about. that's where it gets you."

03.06.2009: all weekend spent worrying about my danish exam, now it's finally over, except we were running late and i don't even get to find out whether i passed or not until thursday. i'm sure they told me how it went, but in a language i'm distinctly struggling with. maybe that's the actual test, if you realise they've told you you've passed you can just take yourself on to the next class.

but it was weird. i talked about how noisy the french kids living above us are on the weekend mornings. how we had a brilliant melodi grandprix party, with sushi and everything. and how i eat eggs because otherwise i wouldn't get enough protein, since denmark is so meat eater orientated. i stopped whilst trying to explain that almonds have very little nutritional content. i think i was getting confused with cashew nuts. i also talked about how bad the drivers are in england relating to cyclists. i ran out of words and had to say they drive with much violence. what i should have talked about was the guy in our building who bought himself a thai bride. me and my classmate had just discussed it whilst waiting for the exam, we had it practiced and i had the perfect opportunity to bring it up, but i chickened out.

i also should have talked about the cop upstairs. he just gave me a right dirty look through the kitchen window. he came into the courtyard and closed our opgange door. he is such a prick. he must be seething about that bike lock and how he can't remove it. the nazi fuck.

i love the world so much i want to dip it in molasses and set it on fire.

so to celebrate not having to think about my exam i've done nothing all day. i've been mostly playing (and completing) braid. it's like my perfect game (maybe if it could be seemlessly crossed with portal). we all need more time manipulation in our lifes, it's such a beautiful game dynamic. and they implemented it wonderfully. like the whole game has been designed to make you feel clever. there were only two puzzles i took issue with (one requiring you to have noticed a very subtle rule, which is almost deceitful given previous puzzles. you couldn't guess at it, you just had to know, and how could you?). but anyway, enough people have gushed about it already. i'm just happy to have finally played it. and had it make me feel clever.

01.06.2009: finally the summer is ripening. this means dissolving into the beach, stoner rock, and eating avocados with balsamic vinegar. getting drowsy in the sun and sweaty between your toes.

but right about now it's time my cough finally fucked off. it's been getting slowly worse ever since our gig. and it's no fun. i've been sleeping badly enough as it is (no reason). i want a tracheostomy. i want it over and done with.

our sunday dinner was massive. we started with a simple miso soup. then brought out all the sushi gear, everything fully prepared so everyone could have a go at making it themselves. then finally (a while after so we didn't burst from the sushi mass) i fried up a humoungous bowl of tempura. i think the whole meal was quite an achievement. we finished it off nicely with some dice games and a long overdue trip to the local.

hvad mere? it's been a really good weekend, but we haven't actually done that much. i guess on friday i was helping out with the fisk sustainability festival, which basically meant i was carrying a lot of heavy things backwards and forwards. tables, soundsystems, fridges, sofas, etc. being the only guy, i get that a lot. me and emil were also given the job of handing out fliers for the event, which was just horrible. but the afternoon rewarded me with glorious sun, a comfy sofa in the middle of the street, a bar of montezuma chocolate and the new issue of seaguy (i'd wait for the trade, but i just couldn't). it was perfect.

i need to revise for my danish exam. but i just don't care right now.

30.05.2009: of course we went to see 'antichrist'. i didn't want to pass up the experience of seeing it in a cinema full of people who weren't going to hate it. if there's one thing i like about the danish it's their sense of humour. there's nothing worse than seeing a film with people who are determined not to like it. so please just don't bother.

maybe being such a hateful person biases me towards films that offend and disturb others, but i thought it was brilliant. and that's not something i need to defend. although listening to people talk about it on the internet you'd be forgiven for thinking otherwise. however, one thing i wouldn't call it is misogynistic. that'd be like calling 'schindler's list' fascistic. and maybe that is something i need to defend. but wont.

i love this quote from imdb, "What a overrated movie, no story, pure evil violence? I don't need this movie, living in Denmark is horror in itself. We don't need more negative energies around us." you are just afraid of the cock, clearly.

i also feel it's worth noting how nice the grand theatre is. it is classy and doesn't even smell. also, just outside it is probably one of the nicest and tiniest spots in the city centre. cafes spreading out onto the street, a great smelling indian restaurant, everything you'd want from a small european cobbled street. and on the corner you have a great view of both new city hall and the back of the old city hall. i'm never going back to those other shitty cinemas. not even for harry potter.

28.05.2009: i finally get around to going swimming and it's almost comic how massively i manage to fuck up. getting changed and finding the showers was simple enough, but then i couldn't find the actual pool. so i walked around the changing area, dripping water everywhere, being promptly told off for getting wet in the dry area. and of course the pool is next to the shower area but disguised behind a wall that looks like a toilet. i also left my towel in my locker, so i had to walk around wet in the dry area again. to top it all off i left my 20kr in the locker. i'm totally dumb.

so as everyone goes off to sweden to see sonic youth play an intimate venue, what do i do? about as much as i deserve, considering i had every chance to get a ticket.

these days, i don't seem to be able to get bike grease off my hands. i'm stained.

and i noticed my guitar strings have soaked up blood from saturday's gig. stained as well. it's somewhere between pretty nasty and quite cool. consider yourself baptised.

this is the largest sweet potato i've ever seen.

isn't this what twitter's for?

27.05.2009: when i was younger and i couldn't sleep i'd read comics. i'm thinking of peanuts and 'tom and jerry' annuals, so we're going way back here. i mean, i've always read peanuts, but these were beat up old paperbacks from the 70s. and those tom and jerry annuals were magic. i could read them over and over because i always forgot the stories. this is the same reason i've never been able to pull all-nighters on coursework.

i don't know where i'm going with this, but it was what i was thinking about last night when i couldn't sleep. my head full of rain and air conditioning. and all other types of conditioning. upside down and half submerged in a bucket of slightly too warm water. fhzzzzz. all these thoughts that set fire to your city. and they're all so redundant. all but one at least. i figure you can just take your pick and go with the flow.

a lapse in faith is always a good thing right? even when it's faith in other people? i don't know if i ever had much faith anyway. but still.

i want a sofa. and there's nothing productive i can do until i get one. i'm just being stubborn. of course. but there's no reason for the girls to spread themselves out so thinly they take up all of them. maybe it is. i'm in no state to reason. all i need is probably just an americano. and the internet, which isn't working here. a standard level of upkeep is not hard to achieve.

did i tell you i was going to roskilde again? except this time i'm going to be volunteering. with fisk. there's a group of about 15 of us. which is great, except i'm the only guy. sounds familiar? it'll be a blast i'm sure.

my uniform? it does not impress you?

25.05.2009: saturday night had too much information to process. my brain feels scolded. still. i'm completely unsatisfied with my ability to keep a tether on it. and i timed my beers so well. just too many little anecdotes and incidental nothings. it's the texture you lose, the tingling feeling at the end of your fingertips. that exact shade of dull blue. how it feels at 8:30am when you try and tell someone "good morning". laughing every ten minutes as you remember something else.

sunday was great too. we missed the marathon (massive congratulations to alexander) but did manage it to alexandra's for a brunch that lasted many hours and consisted (for me) mostly of homemade buns and german mustard. i loved it so much they gave me the jar. only could it have been better if we'd ended up in a park.

my photos from wales are live. here is a choice selection:

i'm still nowhere near finished to writing the trip up. it has many barriers. i know i can't do it justice. i knew i should have used my notebook.

buy me a coffee and i'll tell you all about it. in the morning. when i'm not smelling like burnt milk.

24.05.2009: my favourite moment is at 5am, sitting on the canal wall eating pizza (for which i wont apologise). breaking the transition discourse. the sky is turning from dark grey to dull blue and it's an entirely different world we've passed into. the wrong side of the morning. like opening a book upside down. you're on the same page, it's just all the words are different.

but the whole night was epic. my only regret is that we didn't record the show. the plan was for me to go onstage alone and start stroking my bass, lay down some strong audial foundations. then kenneth would follow my lead, taking his guitar and building structures around the sound. then jolle, he'd come up and knock the whole fucking thing down with his grizzly big muff noise. i wanted them to hear us in space. it be so loud you can actually see the soundwaves. distort reality.

when people have noticed we've started playing kenneth switches to drums, unleashing the meanest sparkly silver barrage. a riff begins to take form. i am not batman. i'm fucking mogwai. if only i'd opened my eyes i would have seen the ghost of pierre schaeffer begging for forgiveness. i've never felt so in harmony with the stage. we blended and it was perfect. the accumulation of all the hard work. bless the dd3 and the little rectangle of ground it sits on.

graceful degradation, and we begin the songs. our set was almost all new material (we only played one and a half songs from our cd). we even ended up improvising an encore - a nice little ditty based around a norwegian kids song and jolle singing "i wish i was dead". but then the guys left the stage, leaving me there feeling a bit stupid. i should have ran, but i just sat down infront of the butterfly candles instead. it was about all i could do.

what had helped significantly was the previous gig. it had fired me up. the oi had gotten my right in the mood for drunken butterfly. my two bands being on first and second wasn't exactly ideal, but it worked for us. me and kenneth had just enough time for a costume change and an instrument realignment. it was beautiful.

as for the oi, it went as good as a first gig should. the songs were strong and probably sounded more confident than they actually were. it was a lot of fun. my only critique would be of our between song banter. the show needed more cohesion. it will come. i'm just glad the beefy skinheads left before we went on. also, did i tell you have a new guitar? it did not let me down. the braces we're great too (even if i did have to fashion a bit of sock material into a protective cover around the metal clip to protect the guitar), the straps are the perfect place to store a spare plectrum. very handy. they keep your trousers up too, who knew?

the other bands had their moments, but we're completely outshined by suck butter or whatever they're called these days. fucking rampant messy chaos on stage. it was reasonable up until they ripped open the plastic bag of meat and fake blood that had been concealed (badly) under mathias's tshirt. then from out of nowhere appears a giant roasted pig's leg, mathias waving it around in the air like a giant meaty club, his bare chest all sweat, fake blood and grease. i fall in love with the spectacle. if only it didn't make me want to vomit so much. a minute later and an asshole in the crowd has the plastic bag full of red syrup and sausages and he's swinging around in the air, spraying the shit all over everywhere. fuck these guys.

23.05.2009: i've been waiting for this day all week, and pretty much everything i've been doing has been somehow geared towards it. the big double gig night. so my week has been slow but very enjoyable.

i had the first part of my second language exam on tuesday. i'll let you know how that went next week, but for now i can just say that it was a mix of the unfairly difficult and the ridiculously easy.

it's felt like we've been doing a lot of cleaning. arranging new rooms in the apartment. getting the garden in order. fixing up the bikes after the messy winter.

then on thursday we woke up early and headed up north west for a long cycle ride with various family members. it was excellent to leave the tarmac and cycle down tree lined dirt paths again, along lakes and rivers and all kinds of sexy nature (and yes, invasive species). all was well until my chain snapped. even after all the work i'd put into the bike. it was just plain unlucky. but fortunately we were very near a train station, and the train was just arriving, so i was hurried onto the train and shipped back to copenhagen, alone and with no money, cards or keys. i knew i was missing something when julie took the bag off me.

so i went to hang with the studenterhuset people, out for a yearly meal paid for by the tip umbrella. that was some good tapenade. i was impressed. shame about their "masculine" and "feminine" brunches though. the former being all meat and the later being fruit and museli. you fucking idiots.

and on the train i had to put up with an off duty cop tell his asian girlfriend how they deal with gypsies. they arrest them and then work out what they've done afterwards. he was just oozing prejudice. fucking cops. he was unbearable to listen to.

which reminds me. our favourite cop (the one who lives upstairs) had his bike stolen earlier this week, which kind of serves him right for locking it to our fence all the time. but he was so angry he stuck a purple note on the front door of the building - "kob din egen cykel. din cykel tyv". his rage carried on all the way to the garbage bag left on the street, "use the dumpster you pig". honestly.

20.05.2009: i've been reading the no-nonsense guide to animal rights. i thought i'd share some of it with you.

Not including fish, 25 billion animals are slaughtered every year worldwide.

Every year almost 30 million animals are slaughtered on fur farms.

Scientific and technological advancement, as well as the development and manufacture of consumer products, claims the lives of over 100 million animals every year.

In the US, 90 per cent of all meat is produced in [factory farms]. Four companies control 79 per cent of the beef industry; two of those also own 74 per cent of Canada's beef industry.

The largest slaughterhouses now butcher some 2000 animals an hour.

In the UK 2.7 million turkeys die in their sheds before slaughter every year.

In 2001, 22 of Canada's 780 federally inspected slaughterhouses reported that they received 7382 cattle and 4684 pigs that had become mortally sick or injured on the farms they came from.

70 per cent of pigs arrive at slaughterhouses with pneumonia.

Nearly 100 million tons of seafood is caught each year (half of which by 8 per cent of the 12 million fishers in the world today). 28 million tons of sealife, including fish, birds, turtles and dolphins, is unintentionally caught in nets. A full 92 per cent of Australia's prawn catch isn't prawn at all but other species.

Farmed fish are usually fed wild fish - and it takes 5kg to produce 1kg of farmed fish. In fact, one third of all fish caught in the wild is used in meal to feed livestock, including farmed fish.

Almost all commercially produced milk contains pus and blood that is sucked out with the milk from [mastitis] infected cows, The industry currently allows a content of 200million pus cells per liter of milk.

Of the 800,000,000 Hindus in India, more than 80 per cent are vegetarian.

When some Indians learned that the fast food chain McDonald's was selling french fries that contained beef flavouring, they protested in Delhi and Mumbai ... causing $2 million in property damage. The company was forced to pay a $10 million settlement to Hindus and other vegetarians in the US.

Dolphins have a natural lifespan of 25 years, but rarely survive 6 years in captivity. Over 50 per cent of dolphins die within the first 2 years of captivity.

Pet food is generally made from slaughterhouse refuse. This means it comes from dead, dying, diseased, or disabled animals that are unfit for human consumption.

It is entirely legal to make cat and dog food out of rendered cats and dogs. One Canadian company was putting [over 18000kg] of dead pets into its pet food.

Because so much animal research is either repetitive or trivial, it has been estimated that 75 per cent of such work never makes it into print in medical journals. In addition, of all the medications developed, about 80 per cent are so-called 'me-too' drugs which are 'minor molecular modifications of older and well-established products'.

In the US, where the majority of the world's animal research is conducted, the Animal Welfare Act regulates the transportation, handling and housing of animals, but not actual research practices, In other words, a researcher can, theoretically, be charged with housing an animal in unsanitary conditions but not for beating or mutilating it without anesthetic. In addition, the Animal Welfare Act doesn't apply to rodents (or birds, fish, and reptiles) which comprise the majority of lab animals used.

For every burger made by a fast-food restaurant [sic], 5.1 square meters of land is used. To produce a single hamburger patty requires as much fossil fuel as needed to drive a car 20 miles. It takes 9464 liters of water to produce 0.45kg of beef while it takes only 95 liters to produce 0.45kg of wheat. Factory-farmed animals produce 500 million tons of manure every day. This is 130 times more faeces than is produced every day by the US population.

World hunger could be alleviated if North Americans reduced their meat consumption by only 10 per cent.

the FBI considers [the ALF] 'our highest domestic terrorism investigation priority'.

ok, so that was more than i was going to copy out. i got a little carried away.

meat is bad. meat plus industrialisation plus globalisation and we're all completely fucked. but we've known this all along, that corporations have doomed us all. hey mr.capitalist, who will buy your shit when we're all dead?

forget it. i don't know why i bother.

19.05.2009: i've have some radical suggestions for our cleaning rota. it has become obvious that innovation is urgently required and drastic steps need to be taken. my first suggestion, first and least radical, is to host regular cleaning parties. we order in a crate of beer and crank up the music, break out the ecover (which you can now buy in regular stores here, such as fakta. this is good because more people are exposed to better cleaning products, but bad because they sell it much and the nice independent stores lose business). and foam parties. everybody get naked and cover yourself in cillit bang.

my second idea is once a week we all have a three course meal together, with each course being eaten off the floor of a different room. this is my best and favourite idea.

or we could all just start wearing mops on our feet, dragging squeegees around wherever we go. or we could get a house pig.

now i'm getting electric shocks from my computer. stupid denmark with it's stupid lack of electrical grounding.

as shit as 'the spirit' was (and it really was shit), it was worth downloading just to see samuel l jackson and scarlett johansson (who's jewish, btw) dress up as nazi officers. and for absolutely no reason. i'd say it's almost avant-garde, if that wasn't pushing it a little too far. but it's definitely my favourite scene from all the crap movies i've seen in the last year - samuel l jackson heiling to immortality.

i got wd40 in my eye. is that bad? ..but it smells so good

17.05.2009: pesky fjell aper, filling up the streets and waving their stupid flags and money all over in the air. there's just something very weird about having a national holiday to celebrate your own country. especially when it involves such expensive national dress, and soda costing 25kr. julie tells me all the norwegians were getting especially excited, what with them winning eurovision and it being their special day. fjell aper.

as for eurovision, we had a great party, but i can't help feeling a bit let down by it this year. it really was just a bit crap. here are some photos from the frontline:

not everyone fit in the photo, but we had a headcount of 14 (with one more coming after the show), which was a nice turn out. the sushi was also very successful, but i wont go into that now (except to say that the home-braised tofu, vege hotdog and deep fried aubergine sushi that i made was the best sushi ever, despite it sounding somewhat unconventional).

thanks to jesper we kept score as we went, awarding points for song and performance. and call me sad, but you can view our score sheet here. i thought it was interesting that julie was meanest with points and emil was the most generous. there's also an obvious (but no doubt non-mathematical) trend of giving higher points as the night went on. coincidence or just the beer?

our top three countries (including performance score) were moldova, ukraine and portugal. although, had latvia made it to the final i'm sure they would have won hands down. in our house at least. why didn't any guitars get through this year? it would have been nice to see the irish girl rock too (although the song was rubbish). and while i'm linking to semi-final highlights, czech republic's entry has to be mentioned ("i can make you really sing like gypsy"). brilliant.

it was a shame georgia wasn't allowed to compete, with their "we don't putin, i will try to shoot him" song. but i do have to say i liked the 1984-esque stage show from the russian entry. it was genius, even if completely unintended.

but surely, enough crap about eurovision already.

15.05.2009: thursday is a good day for a morning shift. it puts me out of the house for 15 straight hours. volunteer work, followed by a couple of hours hanging out (falling asleep) in town somewhere nice, language class, and finally a band practice (or two). so that's me surviving on the fisk boller (buns) and coffee all day. no china box or falafel, i need to cut back on that crap.

i've been getting into the morning shifts though, i like the reason to get up earlier and i like the baking. plus i get to spend the evening with my girlfriend (not on thursday, obviously). and the last time i took an evening shift i was stuck there an hour after closing due to the register being out by 2500kr (about 300 quid). it turns out the person who'd cashed up the night before had messed up so i was dealing with two days of takings. yep, that's how little we take sometimes (although it was from a saturday, a much shorter day). i had found loads of beer that had just passed their sell-by date though, so i bagged some of those. nice enough. i'd still rather get paid though.

and i almost skipped class again. due to tiredness and general weirdness. but it's a good i didn't because the first part of my exam is on tuesday and i needed the prepping. it was the best lesson i've had in a long time, me just sitting there and working on my own. and now i'm not at all worried about the test, it will be easy.

and on the way there, cycling, the woman next to me flips right over her handle bars to merge with the tarmac, followed by several of the people behind her. it looked nasty. but those idiots have no idea about cycling safetly. at rush hour everyone cycles so close to each other, i'm surprised more people aren't hurt.

do i need to mention we went to ikea today? to buy a bed for the apartment. the landlords knew exactly which one they wanted, but you can't order over the internet or by phone. they force you to go into the store so you inevitably spend more money. counterintuitive, but i bet it works for them. the scum.

i miss bagel wednesday.

up next, our best eurovision party. ever

13.05.2009: they're tarmacing the road. it smells like it's going to give me lung cancer. but nevermind. i can understand why the road workers all feel liberated to smoke whilst working. is that even safe? i hope not.

but once and for all time i've solved the problem of the disappearing string. ever since we've lived here there's been a battle over the piece of string that can hold the door to the courtyard open. we use the door all the time, so it's a matter of convenience for us to have it held open (when we're using it). we could take our keys out with us all the time, but it's an unnecessary hassle. anyway. every few weeks someone will remove the string and we'll put another back. it's comic and it's ridiculous. pathetic even, that no one has ever said anything or complained, we just go on in this endless cycle. until today, when i attached my old bike lock to the rail besides the door instead. (we know it's you peter, you twat cop).

and today i'm making broccoli soup from the broccoli stems i've been saving up in the freezer. i wonder how many perfectly edible broccoli stems are thrown away. and i wonder what the nutritional content of the stem is compared with the florets. but this is supreme recession food. it's the cheapest meal i've made in a long time. and we're barely even halfway through the 10kr cabbage we bought last week. it was bigger than your head. my soup is too. and it tastes better than you.

dna replication animation. just watch it, it's the best and most terrifying thing you'll see today.

yesterday i fell into the stunderhuset trap. me and emil went there to work, and the working was good too. but when half four rolled around i just couldn't be bothered to leave for class. i'd slept terribly the night before and knew i'd gain nothing from going. so i relaxed in the comfy chair by the window and took a calming nap, soaking up the last of the days sun. sonic youth and ramble. meaningless babble. it was great. all these words floating through my head, defying shape or form or capture (i'm thinking of butterfly nets). followed by a brutalising oi practice. we killed kenneth. drunken butterfly finished him off. then we played some dice, and i only mention this because we were down to seven dice and when someone called on eight sixes there were actually eleven (i calculated about a 1/2000, but may be off). this is possible due to the 'stair' rule that i don't think you have in perudo. ask me about it sometime.

catch on sleep time to up.

alphabetical i in maybe order post rearrange should the whole. no reason. forget it.

12.05.2009: my best danish yet:

en anden: Hvad tror du, der foregik i hovedet paa de autonome i Hyskenstraede? kom med et bud!
laurence: man kan ikke bruge "autonome" som en kollektiv substantiv
en anden: Hvad ellers? Jeg behoover et alternativt forslag til at tale om mere end een autonom.
laurence: men hvad kan man konkludere om en gruppe, hvis eneste definere faktor er at de taenker og handler som enkeltpersoner? maaske du oonsker at tale om brandstiftere, vandaler eller graffiti kunstnere?

for background info you could do worse than read this article (link filtered through google translator). no matter what i think about the events (it looked fun), it's good to see some colour injected into the city. the smashed stores could have been chosen with more care, but probably that's beside the point. it's just a shame those brief moments of non-consensual destruction/creation stole the show, from what otherwise would have been a very successful event. can you predict how the cops will act next time someone 'organises' a street party? and incase i've made it sound like i was there (or even know anything facutal about it) i didn't even know it was happening until after the fact.

and i can't believe i'm in town again and didn't bring my camera. perhaps i should hand over photo duties to kenneth, who was even shown on tv taking photos of the artistry. resculpting the city, when the situation just isn't enough.

"down with a world in which the guarantee that we will not die of starvation has been purchased with the guarantee that we will die of boredom."

10.05.2009: i'm too tired for any of this right now. i should just be in bed. but i ate too much halva. or raisins. oh just forget it. i'm going to watch videos of 'mogwai fear satan' on the internet instead. that place (the internet) is much more interesting than me and my stupid weekend anyway.

we hosted a good impromptu party though, on whatever day it was. friday probably. it was a public holiday here, something obsolete about big prayers. but that has nothing to do with it, so i don't know why i mention it now. maybe i had a reason at the start of the sentence, but nevermind.

but yeah, we made some african groundnut stew, served with rice, a boiled egg and homemade hungarian potato bread. it was all very classy. including the amount of beer, gin and win that was drunk (most of the gin, three bottles and half a carton of wine, and i have no idea about the beer). it was enough to keep us up until after 5am though, playing perudo and games that involve sticking bits of paper onto your forehead (again). but mostly perudo (scandinavian rules, much fairer).

i like a party where all the guests crash over. especially when they clean up after themselves before leaving in the morning. my friends are too brilliant.

even more interesting (the fun never ends), we bought a new blender. this is exciting because i can now buy a 10kr bag of dried chickpeas from fakta and transform it into about 200kr worth of hummus. my numbers are totally made up, but that stuff is expensive. i've been giving it away all weekend in big tubs and we still have more than we can eat. well, a lot anyway.

also tapenade. i don't have to mash my olives with a fork anymore.

and i finally got to lay some wastage with my new guitar. it truly has delicious tones of violent proportions.

08.05.2009: i wasn't actually going to announce it, for reasons that may be discussed below, but i've uploaded the writings about my trip up to tonsberg and horten (in norway, if you didn't know), so you can read all about tonsberg here. there are no photos.

but why? well, i honestly don't think i've written anything of any interest to anyone but myself. i'm either writing this crap because i like keeping a record, not forgetting the little details, or it's simply out of habit. so why actually make it public? if i didn't have that as a goal i'd never bother. and if there wasn't the threat of others reading it, i'd have no minimum standard to maintain and everything would descend into the incomprehensible.

i just hate the idea that i (or anyone) might think it's of any worth. that egotistical snare, thinking your shite has value beyond yourself. trust me, i don't.

i think i just killed something. exp++

06.05.2009: it says a lot about the current relationship between me and my camera that it took so long for this to happen:

the inspiration just hasn't been flowing. i haven't even posted the photos from the london gigs yet. or wales.

nevermind. we recently received a bill for over 16000kr (almost 1900gbp). i just felt the need to let people know that. although it's not why we were eating cabbage soup today. but a cabbage that's so large it's difficult to carry is a bargain at 10kr. just think what you could do with 1600 cabbages. i guess you could sell them to pay for you water and heating bill (it wasn't just for that, but still)

and please notice the important announcement above. die oitonome have their first ever gig at the may 23rd studenterhuset maraton rock fundraiser. be there or don't be oi! drunken butterfly are also playing, so depending on who plays first there is going to be one messy gig. me and kenneth are in control, don't worry. we've got settings, knobs and buttons to make sure everything goes as smooth as shit peanut butter.

05.05.2009: if a smiling guy on the street is trying to sell me a book on intelligent design of course i'm going to stop and have it out, but this guy was just unbelievable. firstly he told me that he was also a hardcore darwinist, but that doesn't stop you fully understanding and believing in intelligent design. apparently most scientists don't understand intelligent design fully, and that's why they reject it (not because it's wrong or non-scientific). when i tell him i'm an atheist he tells me you don't have to believe in god, it could be aliens. like, jesus shoot me down right there in the street. with fucking alien laser beams and shit. then he starts dissing dawkins for having no understanding of theology, he says the god delusion is a terrible book. but you can't talk theology in a scientific text, there is nothing scientific about theology. they are diametrically opposed. anyway, he was a nice guy and he was making me look stupid so i told him we had to go, to which he answered "you don't have to do anything". right, i'm a nihilist and a solipsist. if only pat condell was there. he could have headbutted him.

those links are worth clicking, btw.

now i've got to down this here coffee and make for fisk with my camera. someone donated a mass of cannon gear, including two cameras and about five lenses. the macro and zoom have my name on, literally.

my insecurities can wait. fuck facebook. isn't it amazing what people can achieve in fifteen years? this internet thing, it's all just posturing and postulating. your uniform does not impress me.

i wish it was tomorrow so i could try my homemade museli.

03.05.2009: it's morning and i just found a small piece of paper in my jeans pocket, on one side is written "paris hilton" and on the other side "god". a painful dilema.

returning to the scene of the crime and the park is buried under a delicate layer of garbage. it's two days later and still littered. the debris of our fleeting celebration. bottles, nondescript plastic in all forms, burnt piles of trash. ruined bicycles. why is it that a crowd can't contain itself? why can't we have fun without scarring the ground that supports us? we are all scum.

but the tree climbing championship was fun.

i've been doing some data entry for greenpeace. real simple stuff - first name, last name, email address. but people are so retarded. why would you print your name but scrawl the all important email address? or why put your details down at all if the pen you use isn't at all readable? all that time spent on getting these petitions filled in and it's useless because people can't write legibily for shit. or write within the box so the details aren't truncated during photocopying - the box is there for a reason. seriously, if you don't want them to have your email just don't write it. and as for writing your email with capitalisation, you are just a prick and i hate you.

that's about all you need to know.

02.05.2009: you couldn't argue that we didn't have the best mayday weather ever. i spent the whole sun-drenched day in faelledparken, basking in glory, absorbing as much of it as possible. the soft grass and the hazy air, thousands of other people. we found the studenterhuset camp sometime around 12pm, ten or twelve people in a circle, all sitting on full crates of beer. zero half measures. and i just kind of stayed there. i didn't even feel the need to walk around and see all of the exciting things that were going on. all that, y'know, socialist stuff.

but it was just lovely. and there will be some sunburnt people today. sunburnt and hungover.

so for me it was a less political but more fun mayday. all just circumstance. the sound of 24 beers cascading and bouncing along the road. a cop letting two kids play with his truncheon. popping cherry tomatoes. the sun exploding freckles across your face. "fuck you and the car your rode in on". a pile of bodies in a tangled mess on jolle's bed. my girlfriend jumping in a taxi and driving off without me.

now i have my quiet saturday night, too tired for cohesion. i'm content.

earlier we took the bus out as far west as you can get on a 6a, all the way to a big hall where a reptile convention thing was being held. so lots of snakes, lizard, spiders, etc. even snails. and one tenrec. also really bad chips, with the largest portions of ketchup and mayo that no one could ever eat (easily over ten satchets worth).

i'm a bit annoyed at ifanboy for doing such a crap grant morrison week (the only reason i would ever go to that site). they talk about him for half an hour. they don't mention the filth, they barely mention the invisibles, they haven't read half of doom patrol, and none of flex mentallo (someone on the site writes an article about it, but they admit to only having read it once). how can they waste so much time talking about the xmen when grant himself has said he does that crap for the money? they may know a lot about mainstream comics, but listening to them talk about grant morrison, it was a like someone talking about mayday without mentioning the haymarket. or mogwai, having not seen them live or heard any of 'young team'. you don't have to pretend to care, just do your research.

30.04.2009: i'm being woken up at 7am every morning by pneumatic drills right outside my window. it'd bother me, but if i can't sleep i can just gaze up at the beautiful guitar hanging beside my bed. the world is a better place now. plus y'know, it's summer and all.

monday was kenneth's birthday and, is if we weren't bored of celebrating it, we went to hang out in the park with various friends. lovely day for it, a picnic in the park. old cameras and an endless supply of cake. i'd bought him 'the filth', which i'd calculated to be the best viable introduction to the world of grant morrison. 'flex mentallo' would be ideal, if only it was available (also, perhaps it'd be a step too far too quickly). 'the invisibles' would be perfect, if only it was a single volume. ditto to 'doom patrol' and 'animal man'. i thought about seaguy, but maybe that requires more reference material to enjoy. but anyway, i'm happy with my choice and so is kenneth.

after the park we went back to their apartment, where i didn't get so drunk that i started sellotaping everything i could to the table, wall, fridge and floor (no, that was the time before, and i'm sorry, but i was very amused). it was good timing too, because just after we left the park there was another shooting. again.

i wasted all tuesday trying to do pointless things and failing. then i dragged myself to language class to catch up with all i'd missed. the coursemates i get on with had gone to test, so i was left with the nice but dull and the very annoying and offensive. then band practice, working on new material, and the sudden appearance of emil, back from the land of the dead. or africa, or wherever.

wednesday, if this catchup isn't too boring for you, was much the same as tuesday, wasn't it? we had a mexican inspired dinner with julie and went to see alex modelling at some weird noa noa event where we could help ourselves to free champagne and various non-vegetarian crap. it was weird so we left for studenterhuset where we chatted before getting down to some oi! practice. the new song is not 'smoke on the water'.

then i was reminded how much i hate international student night.

up early again on thursday for a fisk morning shift. they finally gave me the keys to the christiania bike, which is like a bike crossed with a truck. i've never cycled one before, so it was fun and mildly intimidating. now i want one, but they're about the most expensive thing you can buy, even second hand. after shift i hung around town a little, mostly reading the final 'his dark materials' book, before language class. and again back to band practice before a relatively early night.

the days are repetitive repetition (language class and band practice both being learning processes based largely on repeptition,) but good. although unfortunately the details which make it at all interesting are lost. just be happy you can walk around in a tshirt and be warmed.

27.04.2009: norway was just perfect, and if you're interested in details i'm sure you'll be able to read about it sometime (there's a backlog now, i realise this, but i did manage to write up roskilde didn't i?).

the most important (and exicting) development is i'm now wielding a full-on mammoth cannon. a squid harpoon of epic and streamlined proportions. i'm armed and ready for the hunt. a sparkling blue and chrome sonic raygun chugging out death and destruction. photos will follow shortly.

on a completely different note, hopefully i only have to make one comment on pig flu, and that is if you're looking for someone to blame you don't have to look far. if you support the meat industry you're 100% complicit. this kind of thing will continue to happen until people realise that the combination of industrialisation and evolution has only one outcome. we are doomed.

23.04.2009: so it's 06:37 and i'll shortly be leaving for norway with kenneth, just as soon as i've finished my porridge. i'm almost certain my phone wont be working but i can be contacted by email if it's urgent. i'll be back in copenhagen a little poorer late on sunday night.

maybe i should also announce that i will be going to roskilde this year, however this time i'll be volunteering with fisk. i have no idea what it means in terms of camping or getting in for the pre-festival warm up, but at least i wont be wimping out when the weather looks rough. yeah yeah yeahs.

20.04.2009: it's copenhagen again, and not what anyone should call morning. i lay paralyzed in bed for hours reading 'the picture of dorian gray', constantly falling asleep mid-sentence, just waiting for the chapters to finally run out. and so with no further excuse i'm finally up.

and it's interesting because yesterday (or more technically the day before) i walked passed the building where oscar wilde was imprisoned. for being gay. wow, i'm glad i live in a world where things like that don't happen anymore. erm.

england was brilliant, we loved it all. some day i may even write it up. but not now. i'm still too tired and apathetic about the whole writing thing. i just want to catch up on sleep and get the washing done. buy some potatoes. complain about the fucking ifpi, again.

some choice quotes from that article:

"We can't pay and we wouldn't pay. Even if I had the money I would rather burn everything I owned, and I wouldn't even give them the ashes."
"The last word will be ours."
"It is just gross beyond description that you can jail four people for providing infrastructure."

i love the pirate bay boys.

but right now i need to fight this cold feeling with miso. i've been carrying it with me all holiday and i think i'm finally succumbing.

were not wasting paper [or grammar]
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