news [archive 42]

04.12.2009: i love our apartment when it's busy. especially in the 'morning'. different sets of guests bubbling around. everyone getting on with their own thing. coming together for breakfast or lunch. me sitting here making nose bleeding noise that everyone is going to hate.

you'll be happy to hear that i passed my exam. despite the "legetoj" debacle. i thought it was a reasonable assumption what legetoj meant, given that "at lege" is "to play" and "toj" is "clothes". but no, legetoj are "toys". it's a mean trick to pull, especially when the meaning of strange words are usually hinted at. nevermind. i'm done with that stupid module of many teachers and zero consistency. i guess now is when it gets really difficult.

so of course i celebrated, but mostly the day before i actually knew. we played some good music. it was raucous. magic frying pan, my new favourite game, although i'm almost certain that's not its real name. and it's a shame you need 48 dice if you're six players, and a large frying pan of course. but still.

i once dropped a small yellow plastic buddah into the toilet. except i've no idea why that just came into my head.

it's about as absurd as international baccalaureate using my maze in one of their publications.

01.12.2009: i'm back in copenhagen. sleep dragged out and fragmented across three countries. i'm lost somewhere in space time. and i just found out i have an exam this evening. my apathy level is reaching critical. i just want to rock out.

norway was lovely. there was snow and fire and all kinds of desolate greatness. i've written about it, but the form is somewhat lacking. as always.

speaking of rocking out though. or not. here's our latest drunken butterfly comic, based on real true events:

there are things other to be discussed. just not right now. i'm suddenly very busy, so please excuse a slight delay in my email response time.

you could call me, only i'm not sure my phone will charge anymore. i'm working on it.

so. about that exam.

23.11.2009: i'm in norway all this week, just so you know. up in the mountains without internet or maybe phone. so please don't go having any emergencies where i need to be contacted or anything, because it'll be a bit like the good old days when you had to rely on the fun stuff. like telegrams.

22.11.2009: only days after the first squid is found on amager beach, measuring in at 80cm, we finally take to the stage. guitars raised in defiance, thick incense filling the air. this is no coincidence - the invasion has begun.

under accusations of pretentiousness i feel it my duty to push this as far as it can go.

amongst other things, at least i never said "hi, we are project hindenburg's representatives for tonight. i'd like to thank all the other bands for warming up for us". or "that song was about the last of the great mammoths who used to walk this very ground. if you want to find out more about mammoths there's an excellent exhibition at copenhagen's zoology museum, which is free for students and 75kr for adults. there you may also purchase wonderful plush squids. which nicely leads us into our next song". i'm just not a very microphone friendly person.

broke a fucking string though, the most important one, and not even five minutes into the set, palm muting like the mammoth herself might if only she could pick up the guitar and pound it. so that was my beautiful guitar paralysed during its moment of glory. fortunately (we'd almost decided against it) we had a backup guitar, the now completely knobless 'green guitar' that i use in the oi band. quite suitable due to its "free tibet" sticker, which makes up for its lack of beautiful tones. but at that volume, those levels of distortion, you probably can't hear them anyway. so nevermind.

overall we think we did well. afterwards, sitting on the side of the stage completely drained. this place is lethal without air conditioning. taking two glasses of water on stage is a bit redundant when you only play two songs. it hadn't helped that we'd been at studenterhuset for about eight hours, helping set up and working the bar, something that's quite tiring and surprisingly more difficult when sober. that's right, i wasn't even drinking.

best feedback of the night was "i didn't realise you could play guitar that well", which is mostly funny because it came from julie.

i've spent so long with my guitar and rubiks cube my fingers feel funny typing. or maybe it's just the cold.

21.11.2009: on the windiest night that i've ever been stupid enough to attempt to cycle (and the first time i've ever had to get off my bike because i think it's too dangerous) we took a trip out to the theatre, with a genuine fear of being hit by political placards (when are those irresponsible parties going to take them down), falling scaffolding, or being blown off the bike into oncoming traffic. cycling back, half the lights in town seemed to be out. whole streets cast into darkness.

it was a play about oscar wilde, his trip to a palm reader before his libel trail against the marquess of queensberry. i don't know enough about theatre to say how good it was, i really don't, but i did really enjoy it. the novelty of it too. we definately don't go to the theatre enough. it's such a better night out than the cinema (which we don't really do either, i should add).

persimmon milkshake. excellent. after digimon i just can't take that name seriously.

pre-gig nerves now. which i've never suffered from before. but then i've never been the 'front' guy before. shredding infront of a drunken couldn't-care-less crowd. just me, my guitar and a collosal sized barrage of drums. a small boy sitting alone playing with his trains, lost in fanciful dreams of grandeur. it's picking at my paranoi. my confidence is waning. i really mean these riffs. i've been kept awake so many nights, lulled on the swell of their three beats per bar. ontological warfare now. start your chaos engines, etc.

19.11.2009: i should also mention that it's project hindenburg's debut gig this saturday at studenterhuset's maraton rock. we're on late (in the region of 1:30am), but we guarantee more distortion, more notes, and more beats than all other bands put together. we shall be baptised in fire and incense. come worship at the last mammoth's altar. the squid beseeches you, rips you in two. blah blah blah.

18.11.2009: voting, there's an experience. i've never voted in denmark before, and even though it's obviously exactly the same as voting anywhere else i've ever voted, i was still a little nervous (which is the wrong word, but getting out a thesaurus really isn't justified in this case).

we were kept waiting outside the school for slightly too long, amongst the occasional fur coat and half drunken worker, due to some kind of technical problem with the new computer system (for registration, not voting). then when registering i make a total arse out of myself telling him my birthday. fumbling and speaking english, clearly being a foreigner, i'm paranoid about people thinking i shouldn't be there. which makes no sense really, but given all the anti-immigrant posturing from the right wing i'm scared that one of those fur coats is going to attack me.

but these are the largest voting slips you have ever seen. must be about 60cm by 30cm. at least. so i walk into my booth, read the instructions. fumble some more with the huge pieces of paper, getting it into place. i find the pencil with which to place the 'x', and then discover the piece of string it's attached to isn't long enough to actually reach who i'm voting for (so now you know how my politics are orientated. ha!). just ridiculous. those nazis will do anything to stop you voting for the socialists. so there's more awkward fumbling pushing the voting slip up, too many clothes in this tight space. but all went well.

you can click here for the copenhagen results, which i guess requires some explaining. the main parties, starting on the left, are: enhedslisten, radikale venstre, socialistisk folkeparti, socialdemokratiet, konservative folkeparti, venstre, dansk folkeparti (give or take a little shuffling). you'll notice that copenhagen is rather left wing, and that the further west you move (over to jutland) the more ring wing the kommuner becomes. it's almost funny that the entire west coast is right. as for copenhagen, unfortunately the leftness is quite offset by the right wing parties being very right. dansk folkeparti are no BNP, but they're not too far behind them. venstre is the party that confuses me though, since venstre means 'left', but nevermind.

other parties that were running include the christiania party, a cowboy, and the nihilistisk folkeparti, who actually recieved 0.4% of the votes. it makes no sense and it actually makes me a bit angry, but nevermind.

interesting fact - each party is given 6.5kr for every vote they receive. so if you're a tax payer it actually costs you money to vote. i guess that's another erason why economists don't vote.

17.11.2009: we all saw motorpsycho again last night, myself for the third time, and this was their best gig yet. especially since i'm now starting to actually recognise their songs (they've been playing material spanning the last 15 years, so no easy challenge). those boys are blinding. and it's funny because i'm willing to bet that none of my non-scandinavian friends have ever heard of them. i wish i could recommend a place for you to start. i honestly think there is no good starting point. i went straight from jolle's left arm to downloading their entire discography. why fuck around?

on sunday we took an excursion to the zoology museum. swans in flight, whale skeletons, hairy dinosaurs, mammoths. and a excellent exhibition on darwin. it wasn't the in your face creationist scum exhibition that i'd put together, given half the chance, but it was dense and interesting none the less. it's worth seeing for the 3D genetic tree alone, it's simply beautiful. the rest of the museum isn't bad either, if amazingly well painted and arranged displays of stuffed animals is your thing. they really are well painted though. and the gift shops sells rather nice finely detailed plush squids. ftw.

but now i need to go and vote. isn't it nice that they let me vote here? even if it is only the local elections.

15.11.2009: fucking nasty dream though, visiting an exhibition about chinese children who've been imprisoned in solitary confinement from birth due to hideous facial defects. hidden away from the world and forgotten about (until now, etc)

this one corridor was full of close-up photographs and videos of them. cartilage discombobulation. sets of eyes arranged sickenly across the face, all blinking in and out of unison. improvised morsecode, whole words at a time. cirripedian entanglement. squelching horror. fractal barnicular mulch. think man with no face meets man who grew roots meets the breast larvae. totalitarian oppression and strong physical repulsion combinatorial madness.

my teeth are reduced to sponge.

quick change the subject. fuck.

14.11.2009: maaske skulle jeg skrive paa dansk. det skal blive meget sjovt, ikke? og det er bedre for mig at laere dansk. men, skide med det. fanden.

i can see how twitter appeals. i could just as easily write a quick sentence about all the crap i've been doing as i've been doing it. then i wouldn't feel the need to write about things properly. a skill i've lost somewhere (along with my hat, except i've found that already). it works because clearly no one expects shit from twitter. i don't at any rate. it's superficial and encourages all kinds of anti-social behaviour.

i clearly haven't thought out my arguments well enough yet. maybe i should just twitter the last paragraph's last sentence instead. there's my point, incase you missed it.

anyway. so. we had a drunken oi practice slowly develop into a massive reggae jam. and our best song yet, featuring a euro-pop styled punk chorus and everything. it goes f# f# d e, then a e d. there are probably better places to write that down so i don't forget, but nevermind.

afterwards was all about hanging out upstairs, the student house after hours, always a mess. falafel on the way home. we were the last customers before they closed. being thursday, it must have been around 3am.

my new recovery breakfast involves something fried (such as potato slices, or an egg sandwich - yes, frying the whole thing) followed by as much fruit as i can fit in the blender. the combination works.

listening to dolly parton. not roasting chestnuts (now roasting them, they're small but excellent).

then yesterday we attended the opening of a friend's art exhibition. sounds posh doesn't it? not so posh, but it was interesting. occupation of space. urination. throwing buckets of water around the gallery. a room reduced to a circular corridor. it always helps to have these things explained.

12.11.2009: i've been officially volunteering at fisk a little over a year now (nofficially about 18 months) and yesterday was my first ever obligatory monthly volunteer meeting. i've not been missing them on purpose, i've always wanted to go, it's just that they always coincide with my language class. and skipping them doesn't seem so bad since i've been taking a relatively large number of shifts.

anyway, it was good to finally make it to one (even if i couldn't eat the vegetarian soup). it's nice to feel a bit more involved. although i didn't contribute much, as the whole meeting was done in danish. but i managed to keep up, only needing a few specifics clarifying afterwards. so that made me happy.

last year was the first year the shop actually made a net profit (i think that was the shop's third year), something in the region of not many euros (about 1500). this year we've taken significantly less money than previously, business has been slow, but we're actually going to increase the net profit by about 1000%. i think that's very impressive. it still might not sound like much money, but making money isn't the shop's sole purpose. it's also a huge PR machine. and besides, there are many things not included in the net profit. all of the goods that we sell are fair trade, so a large portion of our gross profit actually goes to supporting farmers and workers. that's not something you can see by scrutinizing our bottom line. apparently the 'give a goat' style cards we sell aren't counted in our profit either, and we sell tons of those running up to christmas.

something else i think is interesting, i'm currently the only male volunteer. why is that? there's nothing traditionally gender biased about the volunteer work i do. it's true that the clothes we sell are very female orientated, but a lot of this has to do with what's donated to charity shops. nearly all of the clothes we recieve are women's clothes. does this mean men wear out their clothes before replacing them (i know i do), making them unsuitable for donation, or do they simply throw them out? i don't know. the other problem is our 'boutique' has a very strong fashion styling, which doesn't leave much room for men. i'd be busy doing something about that, but i have no interest in clothes. so. and i'm too busy trying to get the free wifi working again (apparently it is, but i'm not convinced until i see it myself).

10.11.2009: maybe it's about time i openly recognise my website's graceful decomposition. its existential crisis. more and more i have nothing i can be bothered to say. nothing worth saying.

it's a bit like licking a waxy nipple.

which is completely irrelevant. except it was the first thought i had when i woke up yesterday.

what the fuck have i been doing anyway?

not enjoying danish lessons. this new teacher is a disaster. everyone hates her. over half the people left during the break. i don't understand why she doesn't just retire now, rather than work the rest of the year out. i've never been so incentivised to pass the exam to the next class.

autumn cleaning. apartment rearranging. lots of trips to the recycling station, all new shelves and tea cups. we even have a new tv, although we're not sure about keeping it as it has more channels than the old old one. we'd just throw them both out, but then we wouldn't be able to watch america's next top model. we need our tyra morale.

saturday was cycle tour time, out to where julie used to work in hope of seeing animals. there was only one, a deer that jumped out right besides us and ran off into the woods, but it was awesome enough. seeing it up close and everything, rather than off in the distance. the other highlight was the bakery which sells non-dairy hindbaersnitter. a dangerous thought spawns in my head, and i'm wondering if all hindbaersnitter are dairy free. we also bought some local farm vegetables, from an honesty box and everything. it was a nice trip out.

and then it snowed. just a little. fleetingly.

i made a pretty good celeriac soup. and a jerusalem artichoke risotto.

i found 32 chocolate bars out of date in the cafe i volunteer. 1.5kg worth 640kr (86 euros). if other people checked dates and rotated stock properly that wouldn't happen.

04.11.2009: right now (yes, this minute, second, tidspunkt) i'm making seitan. this is for the second time this week. hopefully it wont be the second failure as well. although honestly, it wasn't my fault. the first recipe told me to add water to the flour to until it made a porridge-like consistency, which i was to then rinse in cold water four to six times. you can imagine how badly that might go. i knew it was all going to go down the drain, but for some reason i just had to try it. i made about one gram of seitan. and that i threw away.

but now, thanks to this slightly disturbing video, i've got seitan steaks gently simmering away on the hob. notes of ginger and garlic. it's going to be a great dinner.

and it's snowing. which is just fantastic. spise nogen sne. it's a picturesque change to the horrendous wind last night. at any moment a bicycle or tree was going to come crashing down through our window. or the whole building give way. i feel sorry for all the windmill owners who had to pay a fine for generating too much electricity.

as well as this, i need to rant about my language class. or rather my retarded language school (i initially and quite accidentally wrote "retarding", which is probably more accurate). firstly, our new teacher is rubbish. she's slow, boring, forgetful and completley uninspiring. some in my group have had her before. they said she was awful. it's not just me being an ass.

over half of the lesson was wasted on admin stuff, which should have been done before the lesson, and the rest of it on trying to create some kind of lesson plan on the fly. that last point probably wasn't her fault though, as we now have people from three different modules in our class. people just starting who have some knowledge of danish have been sent to our class (i saw on their papers they were told to start module 2, so what's that about?), amongst them the annoying guy which i thought we'd gotten rid off. then there are the people who have just passed the module 3 exam who have been told to stay in this class because the next one is full, amongst them the annoying guy which i thought we'd gotten rid off. pu-fucking-ha.

the teacher has about as much chance of teaching all of us at a reasonable level as she does passing the danish citizenship exam (very little, even for danish citizens, apparently).

lots of italics today. fuckers

the seitan is brilliant, btw. the ginger and garlic worked out just perfect. but i'm still a little skeptical about it being "healthy".

03.11.2009: something i've been appreciating recently are methods of helping you visualize the enormity of incomprehensible hugeness. and littleness too.

the animated gif comparing earth with our solar system and beyond, to painful limits, is brilliant. but your brain still loses the thread quite quickly. starts to unravel. i still think this gif is better than other animations that have been done, although i can't tell you why (edit: apart from maybe this one, which is breathtaking).

then the university of utah has a great flash demonstration of cell size and scale. you keep zooming in long after you've lost the point at which you started. it's beautiful.

xkcd's height and depth are also fun.

and i suppose i should link to the original film, the relative size of things. which might blow your mind if only it wasn't so damn slow.

can we have one in five dimensions please?

01.11.2009: there's nothing better than getting home at 2am to the smell of mexican cooking.

maybe indian. that happens a lot too. trying to make our neighbours forget they're not living in norrebro.

(happy world vegan day, btw)

but that was a spectacular end to a pleasant evening and night. i finished the first major study in my data entry work. finally feeling like i was getting somewhere. we'd prepared burritos, filled with vegemince, homemade refried beans and a small amount of homemade guacamole. jolle had come round for the aforementioned burritos on his way to work. short but sweet, not having seen him for a whole month. then we cycled out to hellerup ("one of the wealthiest suburbs of copenhagen"), where a cousin was having a 30th birthday party at a kayak club. she was the only person we knew there. so we sipped wine slowly, ate bread (and julie lots of cheese), tried to not look anti-social or awkward. mixed up some classic cointreau and cola, with lemon. it was nice enough. the cycle home was exceptionally lovely. a balmy 7c. along the harbour/canal at 1am. devoid of anyone. feeling up the little mermaid.

the previous night had a been a little crazier. unkempt. drinking a crate of beer around emil's place before catching the train out to lyngby to see two punk bands play at a surprisingly good but rather empty venue. we arrived just in time as the first band, the one who'd got us in on the guestlists and are friends of emil's from his time as a swedish male model, took to the stage. nice to be able to watch a straight forward band and not get bored. the second band were all about the skate punk, also quite watchable. pulling stupid faces, stupid poses, and talking about their dicks backstage. idiots, but nevermind.

more beers on the train back. and a girl wearing a bury of skinned rabbits. we told her what for. freaked her out. her friend tried to defend her, talking all kinds of shit. including bringing up what countries we were from, because such things make a difference when it comes to animal torture. it's a shame we hadn't recorded the conversation. you ugly.

today i've just wasted. but my sunday roast was massive.

and no, i never got to carve me a pumpkin. i guess it's not too late.

31.10.2009: it feels kind of strange when your girlfriend brings home a scythe. it sits in the corridor, besides the shoes, menacing.

it's not even halloween related.

i want to moan about my language class for a couple of paragraphs, if you don't mind. last lesson we spent two hours going through an exam we'd attempted the previous week. explaining the answers would have taken ten minutes, maybe twenty. half hour max. but no, we're having exam technique explained to us. how to approach the questions, how to find the paragraphs containing the answers. i've got a fucking masters degree. i don't need to be told how to do exams.

our new teacher is nice enough. but all she's done is prepare us for the next test. i'm here to learn danish, not to pass tests. and in the next module i know i'm going to be out of my depth. it's annoying because my previous teacher, who was moved to a different module because our group was too small (actually the perfect size), was brilliant. the new teacher not so much. but it doesn't matter, because my she's about to be become my latest old teacher. a fourth teacher for my third module? it's just beyond taking the piss. but nevermind. what can you do?

stick a donk on it.

and then a book drops through the letter box.

kenneth shouts "fuck". we all hate verified by visa.

a shot rings out. etc.

preference / point of reference.

graceless degradation. monologue collapse. each letter losing form. etc. honestly.

29.10.2009: i guess the date wrong every time.

anyway. during the summer i spent some time around tonsberg (norway), exploring nazi caves and sailing and festing and such things. i finally got around to sorting out the photos, so my tonsberg and slottsfjell photos can now be found there.

and if you can't be bothered to click the link, here are some of my favourites:

something like that.

26.10.2009: i spent all night dreaming about moving house/country and visiting friends. my parents have recently moved to france and we have a new housemate here (hi kenneth!), so in theme this makes sense. but the content just confuses. warped my morning. where the fuck am i anyway? back in rugby everything was changing. where were all my favourite secondhand record stores and comicbook shops? (none of which have ever existed, but some of which i've dreamt about before.) they'd all been bulldozed to make room for more starbucks and subways. i woke up very upset. wait, where?

anyway. real content.

i'd like you to read they shoot porn stars don't they?, because the chances of me getting you to read pornography and the end of masculinity is quite slim.

you could also watch nick griffin being skinned of his slimy veneer on question time last week. look at him, he's pathetic. how could you ever worry such a pig could drag the BNP out of the gutter? they live off the scum, they'd just wither and die. so it's an interesting watch. i felt better after watching it. at least until i saw the video of griffin's response. there's a lesson to learnt here, don't leave that baby kissing bastard alone for one second. his semantic sleight of hand and smokescreen lies need to be countered and exposed at every step. deconstruct him to the cellular level, if possible. please.

but right now i'm not paying much attention. half an hour ago the new senser album fell through my letterbox (43/500). that's the first time such a thing has happened in five years, seven months and thirteen days. i need to celebrate. goosebumps all the way. it aint just the abusive weather seeping through the glass and plaster.

and whilst checking my facts i noticed my website is pushing CCHR adverts. those assholes even claim to be "non-profit". fuck scientology down all pathways and on all levels.

anyway. we had a nice studenterhuset working weekend. last time it was on hands and knees behind the bar, scraping away under the pipes at layers of grime and broken glass. this time we're fixing up the stage, moving furniture around, tidying up the band rooms. we didn't finish though. but if they do provide us with all-you-drink beer on tap the job is never going to get done properly.

and i was going to moan my AX300B (pedalboard) finally dying after 12 years, but it fixed itself. which was nice, but i'd already got excited about replacing it. except now i have a nice array of new and obscenely noisy patches.

sorry. i'll shut up now.

20.10.2009: under the heading of "things you shouldn't discuss on your website" you can add "earliest sexual memories". especially if it involves the gummi bears (of the disney variety, not the chewy sweets made out of ground up cows). and even worse, if it also involves domination and submission.

too late to worry about that now.

i distinctly remember a scene from the gummi bears where one of them was tied down and being tickled with a feather. not so subtle. and in retrospect, it's not hard for me to recognise the feelings i had whilst watching it. yesterday, as these thoughts were forming in my head i was becoming deeply (and deeper) shocked, realising and recognising this for what it was, and desperately trying to rationalise the memory. there's something so very fucked up about it all. where did the feeling come from? was i a victim of suggestion, or was it something dark and instinctive trying to express itself? media vs biology. a collusion? nothing makes any sense.

about two years earlier, whilst at kindergarten, i'd got into a lot of trouble for locking a girl in the toilet (the physics and plausibility of which are confusing, but it did happen). an ugly patchwork begins to assemble itself. it scares me. what does it mean? what does it make me? i'm barely three years old and already i'm trying to subjugate women. i'm a monster.

it's all just gepetto. tanya saves me again.

but sorry, this post doesn't come with any revelation or well thought out conclusion. there's nothing nice or concise to be said. we're all just a little fucked up. maybe some of us grow out of it. maybe we don't.

19.10.2009: with my hands smelling of almond milk, mixed ugly with bitter coffee, i'm going to try again to tell the story of the first great oi!tonome gig - the night we finally pulled our fingers out. the whole experience was so diametrically opposed to our last gig that some deconstruction is called for.

weird night though. the paramount seems to be the place the young roskilde punks (and non-punk kids, it's a far cry from the exclusivity of the copenhagen scene) hang out before they can move out to the big city. so the age range averages quite young and there's a good non-arrogant diversity. on returning to the venue, after a quick trip to the pub for 0.75l beers and mejer, we found it thumping with earbleed dubstep. everyone (being my band and the other band) hated it. but i kind of liked it. although it was about as unsuitable a soundtrack to go onstage to as you could get.

then a quick soundcheck, which means no one actually knew when we'd started. shouting over the hubbub. but it soon picked up pace. we had a friendly crowd, intermittently brilliant. german dancing. jumping around a little. shouting "oi!". unfortunately the actual skinheads, young but looking the part, didn't turn up until after our gig. but nevermind.

we all left the stage buzzing. from worst to best gig in a week? what was it? less beer, being more attentive, a better crowd, improved sound onstage? all of the above? either way, we were tighter and sounded much stronger. fourth gig and we've finally got it down. we even got invited back by the organisers to play at a private party in november, impressive since half of our band has been banned from the venue twice before.

it was a good night for food too. at the venue they'd made us vegan mash and lentil sauce. it was excellent. and after the gig we'd crashed the local fastfood joint, saving many a french fry from a tragic journey into the trashcan.

16.10.2009: cunt. various recent conversations have made me realise i need to explain why the word cunt is an issue and to justify my stance on it. people far more qualified than me (whatever that means) have already done this, and i could just quote them, but looking around the internet i couldn't find anywhere which adequately deals with it. and besides, own opinion needs refining anyway.

starting with the basics, some messy etymology, what does cunt mean? whether it has its roots in the proto-germanic kunton ("female genitalia") or the latin cunnus ("vagina" or "pudenda"), it's very clear what the word means. i understand this becomes complicated when english isn't your first language, or when you learn swear words in school without learning their meaning, but that's no excuse. it's just further examples of how subjection and oppression seeps into language when you're not paying attention, and why you need to make concious efforts to remove it. another good example is "guys", but let's not get distracted.

a good quote from george orwell or grant morrison on the power of language to shape and control society would be perfect here, if only i had the time to dig one out. "if thought corrupts language, language can also corrupt thought", will do for now.

why is the word offensive? i'd argue that on its own, used to positively describe female genitalia, it's not. there's nothing explicitly wrong with the word. it's ripe for reclaiming. unlike the word nigger, for example, which i think is explicitly racist. cunt only becomes offensive when used offensively, in the implication that female sexual organs are disgusting, something to be ashamed of. it's pure patriarchy. calling a woman a cunt reduces her down to nothing but her vagina. this is how patriarchy views women - ku, meaning "hollow place". and this is why i take issue with the word. your use of the word doesn't just effect the person you use it against, your language effects society's perception of all women.

a quick digression into the scandinavian languages - in danish/norwegian the word for the external female genitals (labia) is skamlaeber/skamlepper, which literally translates into "shame lips". this isn't a slang term, it's normal usuage.

of course it doesn't help that "cunt" has a very satisfying enunciation. as does fuck. dick. cock. prick. all these harsh sounding words that make them perfect for insults. they're also all sexual. how repressed we are to use sex as an insult. sex as filth. as shame. ideally we shouldn't use anything sexual as an insult. we should be proud of our sexuality, unashamed and open. but i don't see this as such a big problem, because we all fuck, it's indiscriminate. but we're not all coerced into feeling guilty and disgraced about our bodies. we're not all made to feel like objects. not to the same degree, at least. (as tom cruise so nicely puts it, "respect the cock, tame the cunt")

i'd also like to write about the words twat and gash, both of which are sometimes used as synonyms for cunt (a necessarily awkward sentence as they shouldn't be used as synonyms). i'm actually quite fond of the word gash, "a deep flesh wound". it's a nasty sounding word for something suitably nasty, like "tumour". a great cuss word. it's unfortunate and disgusting that people have adopted it as yet another word for female genitalia. a wound, something to be suffered. twat has a similar meaning, being derived from an old norse word for "cut" (more literally "a place cut up", a piece of land). it was presumably brought over by the vikings and no doubt used to describe women's genitalia in the same ugly manner as "gash". in english it also carries the same meaning as twit ("a foolishly annoying person"), for obvious reasons. so yes, twat has the same connotations as cunt, but its meaning is more convoluted and less direct.

am i contradicting myself here, by claiming the usage of twat isn't as bad as cunt? perhaps. but i can clear the issue up, if only slightly, by asserting that the substitution of twat for cunt is unacceptable. it doesn't solve the problem, the meaning remains the same. it only makes it less offensive to those people who are offended by "cunt" for the wrong reasons. however, i think the sentence "all cops are twats" demonstrates a fair substitution of twat for twit (or bastards, which makes even less literal sense), and that's fine by me. i think.

but that's about it. comments are more than welcome.

14.10.2009: i guess it's been about a year since i shouted about what books i've been reading. it's been an interesting year for books:

looking backward 2000-1887 - edward bellamy
utopia - thomas more
1984 - george orwell
a modern utopia - hg wells
brave new world - aldous huxley
the road - cormac mccarthy
animal farm - george orwell
we - yevgeny zamyatin
brave new world revisited - aldous huxley
bod's way - michael cole
kafka on the shore - haruki murakami
fear and loathing in las vegas - hunter s thompson
the gum thief - douglas coupland
mcsweeney's 8, 23, 26, 27 & 28
northern lights - philip pullman
the subtle knife - philip pullman
the amber spyglass - philip pullman
naive super - erlend loe
a clockwork orange - anthony burgess
griffin and sabine: an extraordinary correspondence - nick bantock
the great gatsby - f scott fitzgerald
the picture of dorian gray - oscar wilde
the situationist international, a user guide - simon ford
the no-nonsense guide to animal rights - catharine grant
where to invade next
how we are hungry - dave eggers
the amazing adventures of kavalier and clay - michael chabon
the human stain - philip roth
the four dimensional nightmare - j g ballard
1984 revisited: totalitarianism in our century - irving howe
woman on the edge of time - marge piercy
the photographer - emmanuel guibert
news from nowhere - william morris

actually, a great year. there's even a theme in there. you might have noticed i got somewhat taken by utopian/distopian literature. i've been meaning to write a piece on the subject, but all i have is garbled notes and vague cross referencing. i'm not holding my breathe until anything substantial surfaces.

but would you believe i'd never read any of those books before? i should have read 1984 when i was 16. a clockwork orange when i was 18. same with fear and loathing (hey, wasn't seeing the film enough? no). but better late than never. the cormac mccarthy book was amazing. and philip pullman made me very happy (kill god!). the best novel in there is probably the amazing adventures of kavalier and clay, but if there's one book i could get you to read it would be woman on the edge of time. that's my book of the year (or at least of 1976), for sure.

anyway. better get on with writing my own book.

12.10.2009: almost saw a guy die today. in the post office. death rattle at counter three. but no such bad luck. we had to send our letters whilst standing over him, him staring up at us from the floor, waiting for the paramedics.

the dinner party was nice though. seven us crammed around our four person dinner table. and since emil and alex moved out we've been left with only four forks, we had to borrow some from the neighbours. we served an excellent jambalaya. an america visitor said it was the first non-european tasting thing he's eaten since he's been here (which is funny because it's french/spanish inspired, but it's still very much creole). and he was a cook. so that made me happy. the thirty minute roux is worth it. julie's apple crumble was great too. five bottles of wine. playing our homemade game, this time actually removing the terrible statements. great night. we ended up in amager hotel playing mejer until 2am. in what country can you do that on a sunday?

plant pots flying down into the courtyard from the third floor.

and today i've been boring. been doing some long overdue website overhauls. nothing you'll probably notice. i cleaned up some of the galleries. this is more of a record for me than it is a notification for you.

i did add an epilogue to my oil cleaning diary though. a particularly bitter one.

also. can anyone recommend a good hostel in paris? what i mean by good is reasonable central and neither nasty cheap or horrible expensive. cheers.

10.10.2009: there was a lot shit about last night. a lot. and not much good neither. it's a shame it wasn't just the beer that left a bitter taste in my mouth.

so here's your supposed culture night. art galleries and museums opening late and for free. but all i'm seeing are shopping streets crammed with consumers. here's your fucking culture. the shops should be forced to close early, not allowed to stay open until late. det er fucked i hovedet.

then the big gig night, the new punk show. and to its credit it was a great first show, well organised and without too many hitches. it was at a great venue. with a bus driving around to pick people up (genius, even if implemented slightly askew). there was even vegan thai curry. so really i'm just being a negative creep. but not without reason.

our gig was a fucking shambles. we even have the audio to prove it. too many beers? too shitty onstage sound? us just being shit? starting with a powercut probably didn't help much. i personally lost interest when i heard someone shout "cunt". i'd promised them during the soundcheck i'd just stop playing guitar if they did it again. i can tolerate it to a degree during practice, even though it massively pisses me off, but even during soundcheck it's just not acceptable. and then during the gig? fuck it. i couldn't do anything without coming across as a total asshole, so i stomped on my (kenneth's) metal distortion and let the skrawk and feedback speak for me.

now i'm in an awkward position. i really enjoy this band, but i'm not willing to be in a band who uses the word "cunt" in anything but a positive way (please feel free to engage me in a discussion about what i mean by that).

backstage pissed me off too. a room full of random people smoking all over our clothes and gear. anti-social on too many levels. getting in the fucking way when i was trying to tune. i hate backstage. viciously. in both practice and theory.

after all the bands had finished, a bucket of piss and vomit sitting on the stage (saddest sight), the place was pure devastation. a thick coat of beer on every surface. and studenterhuset wasn't much better, newspaper ripped up and covering the entire floor. i just wasn't in the mood. no matter what the previous five beers had to say about it.

not to mention the fights. anyway. everything i'd rather forget. fuck it, and all the above too. nevermind.

09.10.2009: die oi!tonome are playing tonight (friday 9th october) at huset, just down from gammeltorv. we will be oi as fuck. come and join us after your culture night frolicking. we're playing quite late (midnight, give or take an hour) so there's plenty of time and no excuses.

i'd also like to announce a new comic episode over at the drunken butterfly HQ. you can view it by clicking on these idiots:

i'm asking kenneth here what else i need to write on my website. like he might know. he doesn't.

we're being surrounded by menacing vibrations. run for your life.

07.10.2009: hindbaersnitter. the best way to start any morning. add that to the list of things to do in copenhagen.

what else that list includes might be sampling the various nice bars, such as bankerat, the zum biergarten and norrebro bryghus. and also the less nice bars, such as studenterhuset and hotel amager. then there's the cafes - cafe retro, fisk, skildpadden, random others. restaurants? maybe the vegetarian place in christiania or the indian corner restaurant. china box, nemlig. but we cook decent food enough ourselves. and danish style breakfasts - rundstykker without all the meat.

tourist stuff? christiania, around the moats all the self-built houses, several times round. seeing christianshavn. taking the canal bus up to the little mermaid, walking back through the millenium gardens, the palace, the marmorkirken, nyhavn, kongens nytorv, stroget. seeing the black diamond royal library, the danish design museum, radhuspladsen, city hall, rosenborg have, the lakes, the parliament buildings. and shopping. lots of shopping apparently. and watching a typical danish protest, of course. no trip to copenhagen is complete without a riot.

we didn't even make the art galleries.

there's a lot you can do in a few days. and yes, rifa was a very good house guest and tourist.

but no, i will not tweet.

02.10.2009: the first sting of winter's long tendrils. wooly hat time.

and for those who might be interested, my diary from roskilde festival 2009 is now up. but, to be honest, i don't think it's particularly interesting, very good, or much worth reading. but nevermind. it's purpose is beyond/beneath all those anyway.

we're having dinner guests tonight and rifa's visiting all weekend. just so you know that i'm busy, and not just lazing around in the sun's cold glare.

30.09.2009: i was trying to explain to my language teacher why my weekend was so busy. why i hadn't done my homework. but i couldn't even remember. the whole morning before the demo had been wiped out. somehow. i remembered too late, my word recall too slow. yes, right, the further adventures of laurence and the bottle of wine at kenneth and katrine's apartment. the meal was almighty though. i love how when i eat at theirs (them's) i have my own dishes. large vegan portions. gorging for hours. the largest bowl of win.

the demo of course. my teacher asked me how it was later during the class. the number of people, number of police, how they acted. rage is diffcult to filter through my danish vocabularly. voldlige. but i have a great teacher. she even enquired as to what book i'm reading now. it's a shame i only have her for more lesson. they're combining class. and that's the worse thing, there are people in the other class i simply can't stand. but nevermind.

the other event on saturday, to seal the awesomeness of the day, it was the danish junior eurovision selection show. what better way to end the crazy day? my favourite four (out of ten) didn't even come close to winning though. stupid danes.

then two days of intensive band recording. mostly vocals. beating jolle into his best performances. squeezing out as much as possible before he leaves for the month. so october is re-baptised in shaggy fur and tentacles, we name you mammoth month. and we have the straps to whip it.

and now i'm relaxing upstairs in cafe retro. kenneth is mixing the new song. the one about giraffes. this is what i'm presuming anyway, because he has this big grin across his face.

27.09.2009: for copenhagen, the biggest event in this year's calendar is undoubtedly COP-15, the fifteenth United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (and they expect us to believe this one will be any less bullshit?), which is to be held between the 7th and 18th of december. just down the road.

to give you an idea of its scale, it's going to be denmark's largest police operation ever, calling in over half of the country's entire police force (i've heard no mention of military yet). there have been discussions of raising the fine for illegally demonstrating to 10,000kr (1343 euros), and to 15,000kr (2015 euros) for being arrested on the wrong side of police lines (at least a ten-fold increase). every single hotel in the city is fully booked up during that week. and the resistance have been planning actions since at least march (and long before i'm sure).

so what happened yesterday was a first show of strength. a 1500 person direct attack on the vattenfall coal plant, non-violent civil disobediance. shut it down, most likely the last chance to kick some ass before the police state mobilises and locks us all down. before the whole of amager is under house arrest.

it was a cute plan, planned in public. a legal demonstration would assemble and march towards the power plant, then wait outside as two blocs split off and attempt to enter the plant. the green bloc is the mobile bloc, those fence jumping crazies armed with bolt cutters, running around, trying to avoid the police and distribute their resources. this whilst the purple bloc target the main entrance, hoping to non-violently push through the police blockade.

we followed carefully behind the purple bloc, the safer option. but really they had no chance for success. from a distance i counted 65 police standing inbetween six police vans, all under a huge banner claiming "open for dialogue".

the irony is lost on no one. this is the densest group of police i've ever seen (outside of a canteen at least). there were minor scuffles outside a secondary entrance, where police were now outnumbered (but the journalists having the upperhand over everybody i think), but the entrance was impenetrable. the bloc decided to head back around the plant to team up with the green bloc.

it's worth mentioning that whilst this was going on there was also a group who'd attempted to swim across the water into the power plant, and there were also a number of boats, but they were all outmaneuvered by the police and coastguard.

walking towards the rear entrance a faint smell of teargas hung in the air. but there was very little in the way of any immediate police presence. the rear gates had been removed and once everyone had regrouped they started to enter the grounds, cutting the surrounding barbwire-topped fences as they went, making sure people wouldn't be trapped in if the police suddenly charged.

these dying factories, industrial landscapes, they're where the battles in the coming apocolypse will be fought. we're doing well to learn them now. but i was unable to attend the meetings leading up to the action, so i had no idea what the plans were once people had managed to actually get inside. we all acted far too cautiously, this was our chance if we were to take it, but hesitance (that probably saved a lot of people from being arrested) meant we were quickly surrounded, and without 'violent' means where can you go from here? the police started tightening their lines and pushing everyone out of the grounds.

then it started getting out of hand. a new plan was suddenly announced and a large group of people ran to the side, around the police, and jumped the fence back into the plant. the police responded soon after (with a few of them getting lost in the field). then they started to shut the whole demo down. police forcefully took the truck, switched off the PA system, and started herding people back down to the main road.

many people had to run through the adjacent field to get back on the safe side of the police line, us amongst them. luckily they hadn't started arresting random people yet (nothing had been announced, and technically we weren't trespassing anymore). but unfortunately there were still many people left behind and rapidly becoming trapped. as everyone left, the road was blocked with huge wooden cable spools, skids and plastic tubing, in a hope of slowing the police and giving those trapped extra time to escape. but a non-burning barricade is easily moved by the police (they love it, it's almost not worth giving them the satisfaction).

about 150 people were rounded up and arrested. we're just luckily the police had decided against doing preventative arrests. that's what we have to face in december, amongst many other things.

soon after it was announced that the plant had been shut down for safety reasons, although it was later reported in the media that production had not been effected. either way the action was pronounced a success, something i'm not completely convinced about. grounds for success based on amassing a large number of people who are willing to take part in such an action? that the action happened at all? that's the success for the organisers and promoters who did an awesome job. but what did we actually achieve? some media attention, of course. but this is only symbolic. what we demonstrated is that months of preparation and a solid mass of people can achieve nothing when faced with a brutal police force who answer to the corporations.

no, it's late and i'm tired and i'm getting negative. every action, small or large (like this one), is a step in the right direction. we're doing what we have to do and taking what victories we can. in one sense, we were there, we've already won.

and to the police - we are agents of a power higher than yours. we always have been and always will. unlike you we are incorruptible. your heart is a prison and i pity you.

25.09.2009: to emphasise the banality of recent posts, here's a description of my typical thursday.

i wake up, see that it's 7am, go back to sleep. i wake up again, it's only 8am so i go back to sleep. i wake up once more, it's now 9am so i should get up but my body doesn't want to, so i read a chapter of my book. two chapters later i'm in the shower and then i'm eating breakfast whilst browsing meaingingless 'updates' on the internet.

i do an hours work before kenneth tells me he's going to studenterhuset, something i can resist. it takes me half an hour to prepare food for the rest of the day (curried chickpeas with quinoa and rice, plus various sticks and florets of raw vegetables and some bread) and i'm off into town. only stopping briefly to have a chat with a blackbird who had no intention of moving out of my way.

i would have brought my computer to the student house to work further, but didn't due to future events, so i read another chapter or two in my book. kenneth looks just like scott pilgrim. at 2pm i meet alex and we walk over to cafe retro, a much nicer cafe which i've been meaning to visit for a long time but have been putting off because once i go i'll be annoyed at myself for not going sooner and spending more time there instead of that other student cafe that's become (become?) somewhat of a dive. you could also chalk this place up as a competitor to fisk. they're not all about the fairtrade, but it's volunteer run and all profits go to various worthwhile projects (they're currently donating to the sewa ashram center in delhi).

for a couple of hours we play ruthless backgammon. then head off to our respective language schools, mine up in norrebro. on average i almost die four times cycling up there. the cars are fine, it's the other cyclists in this city who can't cycle. my class is generally fun now we have an awesome teacher (she spotted my book, woman on the edge of time and commented on how good it was, and "i thought it was mostly woman that read it, isn't it?". but that's a conversation for another time).

three hours of class and then i'm cycling back to studenterhuset with a beautiful tail wind and no red lights facing me down. then it's band practice until midnight. we're still recording, will be recording for a while, trying to get as much down before jolle pisses off to canada (and we rerecord the whole thing with monkeys playing the instruments and the drunk sexist prick from upstairs singing).

i get home and we've received a huge box of fruit bar products (the best part of 1kg) from our favourite fruit bar company. we found a bug in one of their bars, and although it could have come from our apartment, it's really quite unlikely. this is a small victory. among many.

23.09.2009: holding in my head the full run of grant morrison's batman and the entirety of final crisis, no wonder i cannot sleep.

we saw the queen. and the crown princess. as if that isn't enough to make you sick.

so i've had lots to rant about. like i how i took someone's shift today, woke up about three hours earlier than my body wanted to, and there were six of us in the store. it makes no sense, not when i'm receiving messages to book my shifts well inadvance because we're so short of people. something is failing. and i'm sorry, but i have more important things to be doing.

the most disturbing sound i've heard all week? churros sizzling internally after being removed from the oven. i almost couldn't eat them.

the downside of downloading comics (the upside being you can read something like 52, a concept that's as bad as watching 24, without paying 150 quid) is that i can't read them on the toilet. not yet anyway.

meaningless 'updates'. it's almost like a twitter digest. worst thing i can imagine. anyway. nevermind. i'm sure you can move swiftly on.

20.09.2009: the white dog was real though. stalking the alley above our practice room. even if it didn't attack us.

then cold early mornings. train quality coffee. eye constantly twitching. stolen hotel breakfasts, museli with water. all these skys in dying shades of pink. ultra-purple and venomous orange. windmills rising out of the mist, emergent red.

the stink of mink not freed from their farm. port at midday. wine before lunch. terrible drivers, the lot of them. when in jylland only ever walk or take the train.

drawing fractals on a child's magna doodle. trying to stay awake after too much everything. wine food coffee. berries. they must have been poisonous. stale damp air.

sleeping in a pavillion on top of the hill, wide view of the sea. all space and stars out of the windows, floating through it. condensation on the outside of the glass.

and other random scrawlings.

15.09.2009: of late there's been a definite increase in freaky stuff happening. certain items impossibly disappearing, things switching themselves on or off at rather coincidental times. the speaker, the alarm clock, my brain.

and then everything just starts going wrong. the blender whips up its seal and shreds it into the mix, ruining the largest and best bowl of humus i've ever made. i pour all my pasta straight into the sink. ok, that was completely my fault. but the semi-flat tire wasn't. i give up.

we'd read there was 'music' happening down amagerfaelled way, but when we got there it was 'techno for tibet'. and since it was early and the event went on until 6am there was no one there. we were in no mood for techno. everything conspired for a nice walk home. see, in the end we win.

elsewhere, the recording sessions have been going well. there's been many. we're getting somewhere, albeit slowly with sudden bursts of greatness. there's still a lot to be done.

and the first thing i do when playing with photosounder is press printscreen and feed it itself. there's a classic easter egg missed opportunity if i ever heard one. shame it can't process in real time. but my head is swimming with ideas for this one, it's going to be fun.

this girl outside is spilling her coffee all over herself. she's totally oblivious.

and finally, this is why senser are one of my all time favourite bands.

p.s. i'm in jylland until friday morning.

11.09.2009: sleep deprived mother fuckers the lot of us. like it's some kind of contagious disease. is it the time of year? a self-reinforcing hyper meme? the apocalypse reverberating back through time? the placebo effect getting stronger? or just too much lossepladsen slik and coffee? all of the above. fuck it.

over at the drunken butterfly HQ (yes, we are about to become superheros) you can find the web's newest webcomic - the drunken butterflies. or you could just click these idiots instead:

but for the full story, you really might want to visit the website proper. i'm very proud of that last panel.

anything important to say? interesting news? more rage to throw around about the uselessness of the people taking our jobs? all my establishments are falling apart. i'm fed up of picking holes in everything. cosmic fissures. i forgot what i was going to say. it was lost along amagerbrogade, disappeared with a scooter gang doing wheelies down the street.

09.09.2009: what was it we were listening to last night? bob marley? i can't remember. but it had been on a while when i noticed one of the speakers wasn't working, the one directed into the living room. i pointed at it, and hadn't even finished saying "hey, that speaker isn't working", when it clicked back on. they were paying attention. it was so deeply freaky that it didn't seem spooky at all.

and so i watched 's darko' (the s stands for "shitting awful", no really). but i really don't need to tell you how bad it was. all i can do is add to the sea of voices telling you not to bother seeing it. maybe you'll believe me over everyone else, i don't know. it's a total waste of your time. there is nothing redeeming about it. go watch donnie darko again instead. or primer twice. it's like bad fanfiction with a budget (there's only one person who was involved in both films, the actress playing sam). it's all piss poor pathetic references and shoddy emulation. it's passionless. meaningless. ugly. how does this shit get made? donnie darko didn't even make a profit. it's senseless. and you want to know what's most fucked up about 's darko'? it had an almost identical budget to the first film. shame on all of you.

and i've finally updated my favourite photos page. it's pure self-indulgement so i don't know why i'm telling you (oh, it's because this whole website is self-indulgement). anyway. there you go. it's pretty.

08.09.2009: when i first left my only 'real' job, for unknown prospects and potential long-term unemployment, i thought it'd be astute to keep track of my finances. a spreadsheet, numbers scrawled on a napkin, whatever. it was also nice to quantitatively demonstrate how you can actually survive without a permanent or proper job (yes, by being privileged, a bit lucky, cheap and 'stealing' food from the trash, but nevermind). the point is that i've always managed to stay above the amount of money i had when i left the UK.

so why have i felt short of cash recently? i had to go back to my graph, and here's what i found:

what you're looking at is my relative finances since the start of 2006. i've been recording it in british pounds, that's the blue line. then by using historical data for the exchange rate i converted the value for each month into danish kroner, so that the red line shows the relative amount of money i've had in denmark. if that makes much sense. which is doesn't. because this is where economics falls apart. it doesn't make any sense. how much money do i have? which line is it? both, and also neither.

without a scale or zero line the graph is probably useless, but there are a few things i like about it. firstly, looking at currency rates is all well and good, but there's nothing personal about it. this graph shows a personal effect, based on a real amount of money that's been dynamically changing. my expense are up by almost 50%, purely because of the exchange rate, and by having the majority of my money in an UK bank and living in a country who has its currency tied to the euro.

if i'd moved my money into a danish bank account in the middle of 2007 (which i wouldn't have done, as i was still in canada) the red line would be where the blue line currently is, and the blue line would shoot off above the graph.

so what? don't mistake this for me complaining. if i'd had no money, no safety net, the graph would be a straight line. there would be no problem. the more money you have the worse off you are. and haven't we always said that capitalism is a terrible thing? i just wanted to reaffirm that economics is stupid.

07.09.2009: my happy moment for the day is cycling through christianshavn, the smell of indian cooking thick in the air. just for a second the world collapses down into a single point and you forget where you are. you're nowhere. delhi, california, bejing, fuck it. forget it.

i knew i shouldn't have sat by the window. there's way too many distractions walking pretty up and down the high street.

and i'm fed up with this blog. it's been rubbish ever since people started reading it. which is years ago now. something about too much trouble lying beneath the surface of being honest. but i've been here before. whining in ambiguities and being totally (and fairly) misinterpreted. i think my point is that, if you write like you want to be hated, you will be. no one likes bukowski, they like his writing. you'd hate hunter s thompson if you met him. these aren't my points of reference, they're my examples.

all the shit on friday night. it's not only my shit to smear around.

the tangled webs we weave.

all just echoes from internet chat.

and the second cup of coffee is always better in this place.

i just realised i probably spend more time playing music than i actively listen to it. these days.

fuck i drank too much coffee. shit, i can barely focus.

i love seeing people sleeping in here. but please stop preening yourself, it's making me feel uncomfortable.

anyway. i should get going. i have a date. at a paint shop.

06.09.2009: sikke en nat (actually one of my least favourite books of all time). you crazy bastards. i still ache. my middle finger is raw on the underside and my forearm has a nasty graze (damn that les paul). but it wasn't me who woke up with a gash up their leg and a black eye and unable to remember how either got there. and it wasn't me who almost got into a fight with someone over their sister either. or me who had four.. well best not get into that.

i think there was something in the water.

the food they served us was excellent though. even i was surprised, and i'd been looking forward to good vegan nosh all day. i needed cleansing after the new pre-gig ritual of 'fish and chips'.

the gig felt great. no useless soundcheck. none of the usual muscles/tendons hurting whilst playing. i had my can of newcastle brown. no one threatened to beat me up because of my VIF shirt (don't ask). no one seemed offended by us. the sound was great. i even did a solo and we had some 'dancers'. now i really need a break from guitar.

thanks to everyone who came. by 4am i really appreciated it.

and so what followed was a very lazy weekend. walks in christiania in the light rain, etc. we made pie and chips (a lot of chips this week, yes). i don't know what else.

earlier in the week we'd put a flag up in the courtyard. a flag from the "asyl til alle" demo that occured the evening after 22 iraqis were forcibly repatriated back to iraq. just a danish flag with "skam" (shame) scrawled across it. it didn't last long until someone had torn the paper flag from its plastic post. they didn't remove it. they desecrated it. ripping it with their teeth. we live amongst savages.

04.09.2009: my parents are currently homeless. i find this vaguely amusing. they only have their van to live in for a whole week. and with the cat too. somewhere in france. they're finally moving into their new place on september 11th, which is as good a date as any.

so who's coming to the ungdomshus tonight? i hear there's an extremely authentic oi! band playing. totally working class oi!:

i think they spelt our name wrong. but nevermind. i'm sure it wont be the only fuck up of the night. as long as we don't get beaten up by anyone i'm remaining very happy.

i just broke my new favourite glass. although it was only my new favourite because i broke my old favourite the other week. i was on the otherside of the kitchen and bits of glass still managed to hit me in the shoulder. glass in my hair, etc. just stupid.

i'm obviously playing way too much 'tango strike'.

03.09.2009: everything you saved for a rainy day. sigh. i'm working through it.

since everyone moved out we've gone a bit crazy. what with the giant stuffed leopard head hanging proud on our apartment front door (she makes a nice change to the reindeer) and the new elephant door mat. i think it warrants another photo:

nothing better than being mauled by a leopard every time you come home. unless it's a tiger and your name's calvin. or tommy, steen, casper, etc (actually, best not get me started on unnecessarily renaming characters in foreign countries, as if any english speaking kids know who john calvin is anyway)

i want to eat churros but i'm in the middle of cleaning the oven. can you fry frozen churros? should i even be talking publicly about frying frozen churros? probably not.

grilly linked me this excellent article about kasparov versus the world. if you like things that i like you should read it too. instead of this junk.

01.09.2009: today might be the last nice day of summer. i can feel the autumn creeping up. in the evenings especially. and you might be able to say i'm even looking forward to it. it's just that i'd kill for some more summer.

autumn makes me miss toronto. they knew how to do autumn in canada.

but what have i been doing? i found a copy of channel zero for 25p. that was fun. we made falafels. found some lovely people to buy vegan gruitar straps from. ate excellent indian food (best in copenhagen? probably).

all those days in studenterhuset writing up my oil holiday (coming very soon). and band practicing.

i did an experiment. i wrote down something i was convinced i'd remember in the morning, to see if i actually could. because you know you never can. but without the evidence it's worthless. who knows if it was worth remembering anyway? i'd written:

it was an excellent night. i can't really remember it. but this morning i woke up with my hand covered in paint. and that's enough for me.

lies of course. but poignant ones.

i've never drank a bottle of wine like that before. and at 40kr it was beautiful. like stealing diamonds from the poor. it mixed well with the paint too. we could have created great 'art', if only it wasn't for drunk/pretentious/annoying art students fucking it all up. "here have some more black". tentacles of rage.

i've been meaning to link to the information is beautiful blog for a while now. it's very nice. reminds of the meet the world flags.

if your name is kenneth you shouldn't be reading this. you should be reading the watchmen.

26.08.2009: all of a sudden the volunteer fair is flooded with americans. i watch the alcohol in the thermometer rise, it's pushing 30 and the windows are all padlocked shut. the tiny space infront our table is filled with people queuing to talk to the agency next to us. and on my other side a woman is looking very satisfied with the israeli flag she just erected on the desk. not a minute later i'm being asked if i'm reformist or conservative. i'm so lost, i have no idea what this girl is talking about. i need to get out.

opposite it gets uglier, an almost lifesize cutout of the leader of the conservative youth party (konservativ ungdom). what the fuck are they doing here? i joke with them, that i keep seeing the cardboard cutout out of the corner of my eye and it makes me jump. they tell me that she should scare people like me. if you ever needed evidence that these people are hateful evil fucks here it is. i'm representing a humanitarian aid NGO, promoting fair trade, and they're giving me shit before i can even scowl at them. not that they're judgemental or anything.

another american, "fairtrade is very trendy at the moment. what's wrong with normal trade? it's the tariffs right?" i'm absolutely not having this conversation. i simply can't talk to you people.

down the hall is a stand promoting chicago for the olympic games 2016. i ask them "why chicago?" and they look at me funny. the one woman tells me she's from chicago and it's a great city, like that's a reason. after some prodding she tells me the other cities are madrid, rio and tokyo. and when i ask what chicago has that the others don't, all she comes up with is "good infrastructure". i tell them to take 2012 instead, we don't want it, it's a disgrace and an abomination. the guy there says something he finds hilarious but he's too chicken shit to repeat it. i don't even care anymore.

i find shelter on the other side of the hall. there's greenpeace and the climate coalition. a lone vegetarian. before i even realise they're there i'm being grabbed and hugged. not everyone in this world is out to ruin my day.

25.08.2009: this morning i went to the job centre. that's about as miserable a start to the day as you could have. i've been offered a job by a charity organisation but it requires me to have been designated some kind of special unemployment status. i figure if i go down to the job centre they can sort me out. it's all very reasonable. you'd think. but to be eligible i need to be put on social benefits (something i don't want) and to be there for six months. when i became a danish resident they told me i had to be able to support myself, and i presume they meant no social benefits. despite me paying tax here, but nevermind that.

i don't want your money because i can't get a job. i can get a job. i've been offered a job, with a charity organisation. but you're stopping me from having it. you are all scum. i laughed myself out of the building.

it's complicated, i appreciate that. the job is paid for by the kommune as a scheme to get people back into the job market. it generates jobs for the unemployable. and and it benefits the charity because they get employees they don't have to pay for. but i'm perfect for this job and the position can't be filled. it's just.. frustrating.

who would have thought that heroquest and space crusade would be worth so much money? watching people i know make money on ebay may be my new favourite hobby.

24.08.2009: i'm back from the (s(p))oiled beaches of norway. a week earlier than planned. i'm full of love, rage and indignation. i'm currently writing up the experience, although i won't make it public until someone from the organisation i was with gives the go-ahead for us to discuss what happened. until then please don't ask me for details. apparently negotiations are underway to resolve the issues, and meanwhile the beaches remain coated in crude oil and no one's enduring a whole lot of much to fix it.

if you want a picture of the future..

were not wasting paper [or grammar]
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