It's a rather poor joke, but I giggled anyway!

Donald Rumsfeld is giving the president his daily briefing. He concludes by saying, "Yesterday, 3 Brazilian soldiers were killed in an accident."

"OH DEAR GOD NO," Bush exclaims. "That's terrible!!"

His staff sits stunned at this display of emotion, nervously watching as the president sits, head in hands. Finally, the President, devastated, looks up and asks, "How many is a Brazillion??!"

0h-noes! October!

You're clinging on to air
You're reaching back
To something that you never had

It's time to draw the line
To draw the fire
Why'd you never know
The time to let go
The time to move aside
To let it slide
To let it slide

-Keane "Let it Slide" ("Under The Iron Sea" Bonus Track 2006)

Ai ai ai! Here it goes again. October has rushed by like pre-school on sugar - and we wont see it again until next year!
Though may I take advantage of this occasion to tell you that little-brother Torstein got awarded with a crown for being his schools "Mr. Halloween" on Saturday?
Well I just did. So now you know. Even without your consent. He was dressed up as a pirate, it looked very nice.

The most difficult thing about Halloween is decide what to dress up like, so to lighten your burden - here are my suggestions!

A cloud or a sheep
1. Draw curls on your body with a permanent marker
2. Cover yourself in some transparent glue
3. Roll yourself in cotton
4. put a lamp on your head as a sun/draw on a black nose.
5. Be the one everyone looks up to! Or whatever the welsh shag.

A Cactus
1. Paint yourself green
2. Put needles into your skin, all over yourself
3. Wear a pair of Mexican shades
4. Be a part of hot, desert scenery! RRrrrriaaaah!

A Viking
1. Get a keg of beer, some mud and a smelly puddle of seawater, stir thoroughly.
2. roll around in the puddle while braiding your facial hair together with the hair on your head.
3. Wear a horned helmet and nothing else but rusty underpants and wooden clogs.
4. Now you will both look, and smell - like a viking.


Blasphemy sunday

I know it's Keane-week, and I realize that it's therefore a bit inappropriate to go to a Travis concert - but there you go! Elin and I went to a Travis concert, so, what'cha gonna do about it?
The audience was pretty much couples, aaaaall couples, and then the occasional gay that doesn't know he is gay yet, but still sings a bit too loud and knows all the lyrics.

T'was fantastic really, they played all the songs worth hearing - and some others. Hah! They even played "Hit Me Baby One More Time". Was a laugh, they were really funny, a well spent evening, worth every second. Travis delivered, wonderfully!


One day I will be
Back in our old street
safe from the noise that's
falling around me
and we'll release this town from the people
who are trying to knock it down
And only the city lights will brighten the night sky
and there will be no sound

open the bars and
open the markets
open the banks and
open the churches
And we'll release this town from the people

- Keane "The Night Sky" ("Money raise for the UN" 2007)
Buy it here. Listen here.

I wonder if I'm ever going to realize exactly how lucky I am. People tell me all the time, the teachers tell me, my parents tell me, family and friends tell me - and I know I can spend a life travelling the world seeing what pain other people are in - but the realization, I mean the complete breakthrough here, it might never come. I mean, I know it, I think about it, I try to think about it - but it just wont stick. It is like it's been covered with butter.

Think of all the things I have! i have fresh tap water, food to keep me full for each meal - several meals a day, a house to live in, clothes and shoes, friends and family - heck I'm even getting an education. There are so many people who could only dream of all these things that I'm (and you most likely are) so lucky to have. And though we see and feel these things each day, we might never live long enough to fully appreciate and understand how lucky we are.

Though still... Still... We have the conscious to be unhappy. Still we have the guts, the nerve, the spine and the bravery to be unhappy. On what grounds are we allowed to make such a statement? On what grounds could we even dream of doing such a thing? - I'm telling you that we shouldn't be. Things happen that will always scar us, always haunt us, always hurt us. People leave us, and that is painful - but it is better to have loved, though lost it, than never to have loved at all. And that is the truth. It might make sense to cry over spilt milk, I do it all the time - but you know how pointless and ungrateful it really is. At least I have milk to spill.

Even if war would break out tomorrow and we'll lose everything and everyone around us, that the world would be knocked down, and there would be no light, and no future - still we would be luckier than millions of others. Because they actually do wake up tomorrow, having lost everything and everyone, and their world has been knocked down, and there is no light, and no future - and they woke up like that today too, like they did yesterday, and the year before that, and they will never wake up any different, until the day they wont wake up at all.

Only to have known all of you makes me so lucky,
and still I might never realize.

Do you?

drink up, sonny-boy!

You say you wander your own land
But when I think about it
I don't see how you can

You're aching, you're breaking
And I can see the pain in your eyes
It's as everybody's changing
And I don't know why.

- Keane "Everybody's changing" ("Hopes and Fears" 2004)

I think it is about time I'm realizing that purchasing and consuming alcohol is always going to be a waste in my case. Not just because it rhymes, but because it's true. Because quite honestly, I'm starting to (finally) get that this is something which is not going to change.

What happens is that I go out, drink, drink more, get tired, can't be bothered with anything or anyone - just want to sleep, go home, tidy my things, iron my clothes and other crazy responsible things (-like blogging!) I hardly ever do when sober. Then I fall asleep. If I haven't already.

That's how far it gets me really, I get tired - I clean something, and I fall asleep. The statistics are pretty clear on this point. And to be honest, I don't know just what to do about it. I could always stop drinking all together! After all, the muslims can do it!

Maybe drink a lot of battery, burn, coffee and Redbull. Maybe.


- JAA?!

I don't know your thoughts these days
We're strangers in an empty space
I don't understand your heart
It's easier to be apart
We might as well be strangers in another town
We might as well be living in a another time
We might as well
We might as well be strangers
Be strangers

- Keane "We Might As Well Be Strangers" ("Hopes and Fears" 2004)
a song that makes me think of many things!

TORA -Temporally Ordered Routing Algorithm
Torah - the Five Books of Moses
TOra - a database administration and development tool
Tora! Tora! Tora! - a 1970 movie about the Attack on Pearl Harbor.
Tora Olafsdotter, better known as Ice is a DC Comics superheroine from a past age of the Justice League
Tora - Japanese word for tiger

Seen something much like this in my blog before? I think you might have, yes. Maybe even twice.



A turning tide
Lovers at a great divide
why d'you laugh
When I know that you hurt inside?

And why d'you say
It's just another day, nothing in my way
I don't wanna go, I don't wanna stay
So there's nothing left to say?

- Keane "Nothing in My Way" ("Under The Iron Sea" 2006)

Senseless and obliviously people suffer from Von Willebrands disease, people can live entire lives without knowing - you might have it. You can be sitting through an entire universe and you'd never even know that you have a disease starting with a W. Though as I said, a lot of people have it - and quite positively it will have a very minuscule effect on ones life.

Basically von Willebrands disease means that you're a bleeder, or that you bruise easily, your wounds heal slowly and you might bleed a lot when at the dentist or if you chop yourself with a knife. Many do bleed - if you don't, I suggest you go see your doctor. But for people with Von Willebrand, bleeding is often with a capital B, even a tiny scratch will look fairly more dramatic on you, than on people without VW.

I heard the story of Von Willebrand in a lecture at Blindern University in Oslo, and this crisp old doctor was speaking to all the younglings - but with this strange story, he captivated each and every one of us. It is some time ago, but I'll see if I can remember.

Von Willebrand was a local doctor in Finland (of all places) a long long time ago, and his practice stretched just over a very minor district. Off the coast of his area there lay an island, and one day a man and his pale son came from the island to see him. They sat down in his office and told him strange stories about what was going on on their island, a young girl had bled to death at her very first period, and people rarely lived after giving birth or having surgery. These people had inbred on this island for decades - and Von Willebrand ventured out to their island to find out what was going on. Local folklore told of demons and mystical creatures bewitching the people of the island.

But to Von Willebrand, it turned out the people were lacking certain fibres whose job is to 'catch' the bloodcells before we bleed ourselves empty. These fibres are often the source of blood clots, as the veins first get narrowed by fat from the outside until the walls of the vein break - and starts bleeding. Eager to do their job - the fibres create a tangling web that end up blocking the circulattion of blood completely.

Anyway, it is quite common to have weak versions of VW, and the serious cases rarely occur these days. Later i have developed a theory of that major parts of my family probably has VW Disease, especially my brother Skjalg - he gets a bruise if you just stare at him with the correct intensity.

Bad Dream

I wake up,
it's a bad dream, no-one on my side
i was fighting,
but I just feel too tired to be fighting,
guess I'm not the fighting kind.
Wouldn't mind it
if you were by my side,
but you're long gone,
yeah you're long gone now.

- Keane "A Bad Dream" ("Under The Iron Sea" 2006)

Well it wasn't so much of a bad dream, well - it was utterly disturbing and also a bit frightening, but I don't think that 'bad' is appropriate, disgusting maybe. Just so you're warned, this is a dream I've dreamt and it is pretty icky and very sick*, so if you choose not to read on, then that's fine!

We are being chased by ninjas, some are dressed in tight black, and some in red - after falling through the floor we land in a pool with a massive splash and sink slowly to the bottom. Ninjas everywhere. We have drawn our swords, but the thick, devouring liquid is slowing us and it seems as an eternity before our feet touch the bottom of a very pleasant white-tiled pool.

The water disappear.

From above and from all directions - ninjas are plunging at us, and I strike at random, blood is pouring from my wounds as I gush at the enemies, back to back with you. I don't know who you are, but I know you, and you are with me - and I am so glad I am not alone.

At a certain point the amount of ninjas has decreased, we are protecting a little boy child as we run along the bottom of the empty, narrow and deep pool - no exits. It is like a porcelain maze.

A man with a face comes out from behind a corner as we stop for a second to catch our breath, and by saying he has a face I mean that he is not wearing a red or a black ninjamask - but I don't know him. Actually he looks like that Goldeneye badguy, kind of poorly animated, just like in the N64 game, we instantly know that he's the evil genius behind it all. His bodyguards just fall over without much heavy work, and then it's the boss' turn.
I don't know why, but it is me who must kill him, and I am standing there with a sword held tight in both hands trying to think of how it is most easy to kill a person. His hands are tied in the back, and he's kneeling down on the tiles, it is more like an execution, and still I can't think of a good way to let him go. For some reason I am filled with sympathy, I just want him to die quick and painless, and I'm thinking and thinking of how to make him do so.

Absurdedly I end up cutting my sword into his face, from the roots of his hair and down to his chin. But he doesn't want to die. there is very little blood, but I can see everything inside his skull, it splits open with ease - even though I am doing it slowly, and with a not particularly sharp sword. He doesn't die, he doesn't scream. He is kneeling, eyes popping out of his face in pain - and I just have to continue, because the more I linger the slower he will die and I don't want him to die slowly. I slice his face into thin slivers, and suddenly there's all this blood again, gushing from his mortal wounds, but still it takes time, and veins and organs are pulsating inside the slices.

But then, he dies. And there is blood and confusion and the person I'm with is yelling at me - we need to get out! We need to hide the body! You must hide the body! Quickly!
We have killed loads of people, but this one, the most brutal, the most horrible and traumatizing - he must be hidden. No-one must find out that we (I) have killed the poorly animated Goldeneye Bad guy. I don't panic, I never panic, I wrap him up - and I walk down the street. People are giving me stares, but I pretend not to notice. The body, still warm, is flung over my shoulder, but I have no trouble walking.

In fact, I have difficulty walking heavy enough - I am floating - and the citylights in the distance are swelling like balloons in pastel colours - if you have ever watched city-lights with tears in your eyes, or without glasses, then you know what I mean. And I float up to the sky, trying to walk on the ground, but I can't.

The End!
I woke up and thought my alarm was 'ringing the cows in' or 'calling the peasants for dinner' - or really, whatever sick excuse I was making up for it not to concern me and my sleep.

*I'm so crazy I'll never need drugs to make me cool. Lucky, lucky me!

I am pimping my blog out!



I asked for a definition and he said:

It is when Pamela says: 'Oi! I'm flat!'"
Everybody got it.


Everyone get bored at some point.

Naturally, as more people come together - like they do online, one gets a chance to share exactly how bored one is - with the rest of the world. I don't know exactly what relevance this has to other people, but one of the top most used words on the web is actually "bored", with "lol" still as a top favourite.

Why do we get bored? Because we have so much to do? Or because we have so much to choose from, and some many alternatives that if we have already thought about doing some of them they already bore us?

Then what is the cure to boredom? Obviously not the internet, so far all that its given us is a meaningless amount of flashgames and free ringtones. Personally I don't see how this is relevant at all, maybe it can stall our boredom a little, or in the best cases spark off some creativity - but rarely it can be a cure. It's more like a time-killer, a space-waster.

Well either way, here's your proud selection, here's the crown essentials of boredom-fighting from all our online friends!










Pompous ship!

Look at my new header!

is it not grand?
is it not spectacular?
is it not way too big?
is it not entertaining?

Why do I begin a question with "is it not.." - do I not make the question more difficult to answer that way?

I suppose I do!

Quite stupid, isn't it?
But splendid indeed! Now all this sad blog need is some more glitter, and some more snow! Because Christmas is really really close and some of us just simply can't wait to pimp out their blogs to a dangerous extent. Something which is very righteous for Christmas time. Indeed. Bring on the glitter! Strap on the shades, we are in for a sight*.

*for those of you who can see.

Paul McCartney - Ever Present Past

I never thought I'd see the day, but here it is! And I can see it clearly too.
Actually this day is the day when I recommend the song "Ever Present Past" from Paul McCartney's newest album "Memory Almost Full".

This song has an upbeat, Beatles' ring to it (surprise surprise) and an odd, electronic touch - strange as it may seem, this actually works well. And though he can't write, nor read music (notes) he doesn't have to, because he's filthy rich - and he makes this song work anyway! It is almost indie-like, very brit.

Have a listen, see if you can think of anything to prove me wrong with, but this, young sir, is a poppy tune, and - most are doomed to like it!


Curse of the Golden Flower

Man Cheng Jin Dai Huang Jin Jia

Yes! Finally another magical Chinese fairytale* by one of my favourite directors. The genius behind my all-time favourites House of Flying Daggers and Hero, Yimou Zhang. Absolutely fabulous. For your own sake I suggest you tune in your expectations for this film differently than for the other similar films, this has very little action, and is mainly a drama. Also it is a whole lot more slow-paced and heavy than many of the famous Asian films, like Ang Lee's Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.

Curse of the Golden Flower is without an ounce of comedy a very problematic movie, but with so much splendour, and with a cast of hundreds of people - a pure 111 minutes of visual pleasure.

Obviously it overwhelmed me with all the intense impressions, the dense colours, the emotion and the beautiful scenery. Completely as expected there were immense complications and a tangled web of a story, intricately untangling itself across a most spectacular cast and some very detailed costumes.

I'm not going to go in to the story, because much like the end scene in Bin Jip (by Ki-duk Kim) it makes me cry just to think about it. Seriously.

By all means it was almost impossible to understand, most likely because there is so much beauty all at once that you have to be superwoman to get it all in at once. But with a bit of afterthought and a bit of reasoning it is not half as confusing as Hero, so I see this as an improvement plot wise. Clearly, Yimou Zhang has an issue with creating tragedies, and he really needs to make things a bit more upbeat, in my personal opinion. Though still this is not reason enough to dislike it, I suppose even though he over-fills his 'forbidden-love quota', and completely blows the 'sad-music-scale' off its hinges - it's still enjoyable, it is still so professionally done that I can see it again. And that's well-tuned for you, a very fine balance there.
I obviously have to see it again. And so do you!

* You must not (under any circumstances) see this film if you think everything has to have a logical explanation to it, like "How is it possible to run up a wall like that?", "Where did the doctor's wife learn to fight?", "Where did that giant army come from?", or "How can he move so fast in an armour made of gold?" and of course you must not see this film together with anyone like that. Once you begin questioning imagination like that you should slap yourself, it is healthy with a bit of madness, a bit of detachment from your square format.

Lined with frost, Dead Badger News!

Frost this morning, and down at Elin's it was minus 5. Holy crap!

In other news there's still a lot of drama in Oslo, people have bought all the bottled water available, and similar companies like Coca cola are celebrating. As usual when there's a crisis - the people that earn from it get blamed, the number of conspiracies are striking, honestly.

VG wrote about the discovery of a dead badger in one of the water reservoirs about one hour ago, as I was to link to this article - it suddenly disappeared. Either it just wasn't true - or they are keeping something from us! This is what was written:

Død grevling i norsk vannverk
Her flyter en død grevling rundt i drikkevannet - etter at det er renset. ... Herfra har det rensede vannet lang vei i rør før det når kunden...

Dead badger in norwegian waterworks
Here a dead badger floats around in our drinking water - after it's been purified. ... From here the cleansed water has a long way through pipes before it reaches the customer...

Would have been a laugh if all of this indeed was caused by a dead badger! Not for the badger, naturally.

It would have been quite sad for the badger.
Poor badger.


All inhabitants of the Norwegian capital, Oslo is advised to boil all water used for drinking, cooking - or even brushing teeth, for at least three minutes. in our water is a parasite known as the Giardia-parasite, which can lead to nausea, diarrhea and burps that taste like rotten eggs - this is actually a fact, strange as it might seem.

Our governmental water-service still has not determined whether there is 'actually' any danger of contamination, or whether there is enough of this parasite to make humans sick. When there was a similar break-out in 2004, Bergen, western Norway - over 6,000 people got ill, and 300 are still suffering from the symptoms (even 3 years later!)

The incubation time is anything from one day to a week, but depends on how much water you drink. They assume there's about one Giardia per ten litres of water.

This little lover bunny is causing more hysteria and hangs on more walls now than Spice-Girls.


You're toxic, I'm slipping under!

Oslo is the new Poison Paradise! To put it as Britney would.
It appears our drinking water is contaminated with a bacteria that causes diarrhea and nausea.
I don't know much as it is now, but I'll get back to you when school's over!



Oh, oh, oh, oh, ooh - Just STOP!

Oh, oh, oh, oh, ooh
Just stop

Why don't you ever stop?

Just stop

(you're bugging me)

Why don't you ever stop?

Ghosts obsession!

Rrrrready to Rrrrrrrumble?

Me neither.

But here's my NewNorwegian (Nynorsk) essay!
I know it's ridiculous, but so was the assignment, really. Kåseri? I don't know how to!

Ungdomen og moroa i trafikken:

Menneske er, som kjent, myke trafikantar, og det er masser av tid til å utforske akkurat denne sida av dei mange utrolege eigenskapa vi har når man er i en sånn passe alder. La oss si omtrent et sted passe mellom dritungane i ungdomsskulen og de hovne ’vaksne’ på vidaregåande, ja, då er man akkurat sånn passe stor. Enten om man trivs med å bulke inn i ei barnevogn med pappas Mercedes, eller om man føretrekker å parkere oppå en stakkar gammal dame med sin nye Vespa – er lek i trafikken den store nye sysselsettinga blant ungdomen i dag.

Det fins et utal forskjellige måtar for ungdomen å leke i trafikken på, for eksempel på parkeringsplassar, trikkeovergangar, rundkjøringar –eller klassikaren, den vesle røvaren - motorvegen. Det gjeld å utnytte den nye boltringsplassen fornuftig, ta opp fleire filar samtidig imens man viftar freidig med lære-L skiltet og fis dei andre bilistane opp i frontlysa med pappas bil. Tru ikkje heller at Buss og Taxi filen bare er føreheldt kollektivtrafikken, nei nei, det er helt gale – det er jo der man skal rygge sakte mot kjøreretninga med stereoen skrudd opp til ’total hjernedød’. Andre festlige leikar er ”Elle Melle Kjedekollisjon”, ”Bro Bro Postbil” eller ”Laup frå lastebila”, alle ganske så trygge, men samtidig framifrå hobbyar.

Det faktum at man som menneske er så mjuk tillatar også leik med anna enn bare biltrafikken, ja her er muligheitene vidopne! Både trikk, t-bane og tog tillatar masse røvaraktig leik, her kan man sitte på urin stenka ukomfortable setar, stå så tett at man kan lukte folk oppunder armholene eller prate ustanselig med trikkeføraren helt til han blir djuplilla i ansiktet. Viss ikkje dette fallar i smak, er det masse å finne på langs skinnegangen og de malplasserte stasjonane. Leik i trafikken er i stadig utvikling og blir bare betre og betre ettersom man blir flinkare til å improvisere, høgdepunktet i ens karriere er helt klart når man endeleg har bestått førarprøven. Plutselig finnes det enda fleir uutforska muligheiter man kan kaste seg over, noe som ofte kan resultere i sterk dødsangst blant innbyggarane i nabolaget.

Fleire foreldre reagerer sterkt på ungdomens leik i trafikken og saman ønskje dei at staten skal sett ein stoppar for det dei kallar ”galenskapen”. Før ferien dannar dei levande lenkar rundt familie bilen imens dei skrik for å sleppe å sitje på med eldstemann som insisterer på å kjøre.

Men eg antar at tilslutt vil alle dei unge skli roleg vekk frå galenskapen, seile i en ubestemmelig fart mot å være vaksen, bruke blinkljos i svingane, vike for trafikk frå høgre og setje ei trekloss under gasspedalen. Då er tida komen for å være moden, ansvarsfull og kontrollert, og i staden for å sprengje rundt og leke med leddbussane, skal man disponere energien ved å skjelle ut musikken på radioen, imens man ustanselig tråklar sakte langs E18, i smog og tut. I det fjerne kan man kanskje høre sonens bil som susar over ei bru i livstruande fart, med alle venane hans slengande etter på eit lasteplan, skrikande og hoiande, galne, men lykkelige. Og man forsøkar å irritere seg, fordi det er uansvarlig, og farleg – men det er kanskje nettopp derfor, nettopp derfor, at man blir sitjande og smile skjeft i smug i staden.

The Neave Society

So, speaking of Facebook, there is Facebook and all the different schools on the planet - one of which are Oxford University.

On Facebook, and on Oxford - there's a group called "The Neave Society", and it goes like this:

Merton College's Neave society is an inclusive formal for the discussion of politics, current affairs and social issues. All Mertonians are welcome to attend our informal debates and speaker events. Free wine and nibbles will be available.

I know that to you Brits (with or without tits) this is not considered very unusual, I mean, there are millions of those pecky College/University societies that sport just about any theme. Like take for example the less-known 'Toothpick Robot Society' at Eton College, or 'Windshield Panoramic Suitcase Extention' at Leeds.

In Norway we have a lot less formal get-togethers, like a Lacrosse team, a rowing team, a choir or a little group of engineers driving around in a steam-engine getting wasted. Anything even close to as sophisticated as to have 'inclusive formal' in its represantative title would be considered an insult, or maybe some kind of joke - most Norwegians would say either:

1. What does this mean? or
2. Urrrrrrhhgh?! - perhaps even
3. What'cha call' me mum?/Ya pickin' a fight? - though, might be the most likely alternative(s).

No, you see - this was something which caught me quite by surprise - they even have their own crest.. And... And everything! I highlighted the words that will never be used by a Norwegian and that made me laugh, rather loudly. The comments from the Facebook-group discussion boards and wall were as follows:

I updated your officer titles for you, you numpties. You're the actual thing, now! Not just "elect"!

it's ok james, you don't need to be a lick arse anymore...*grin* though i echo the sentiments.

Thank you Tim, Ben and Andy for a fantastic year! From the 'morality of war' debate to Douglas Hurd,
Neave society this year has been great!

Well done last night guys, great discussion. I enjoyed the wine and muffins too

Constitution...honestly Tim, where did you learn to spell?

All is ship-shape and Bristol fashion, it seems.

Not saying that Norwegians are particlarily dumb, but I don't think there is a proper chance of any of us emitting something like the above, we don't even have half of them words in our language.
You all think you are -so posh!
Well, we have...
- ... er ... fish.

Heartbreak "Ricco Vero"

The shop on the other side of the hallway on the mall where I work is called "Ricco Vero", they sell clothes and have a giant chandelier in the centre. Usually they play a lot of really gay house- and dance music, or the common radio-pop (which is anything produced by Timbaland and/or Justin Timberlake.

But today they played non-stop sad songs by Keane and Coldplay! Someone has had their heart broken!
I'm going to go in there with some chocolate and a copy of the newest "Pride & Prejudice" version on DVD.

Comments plz

I read a game-review just a few minutes ago, going to make this quick - beacuse it IS my lunchbreak, and it is very nearly finished. Anyway it was a review of the game named Conan (not Age of Conan) and it was slaughtered. The article was full of lots of blood. Horrible thing.

And then in the comments, someone had written:

"Jeg har hatt det spillet og det er veldig bra kamp system noen filmer bra men spillmagasinet kan virkelig suge mye rart til helvete ja.."

"I have had that game and it is very good fighting system some films good but spillmagasinet* can really suck lots of strange things to hell yes.."

Couldn't really make anything out of that.

You should read the review, and you can - here. (In Norwegian)

*game magazine

Ghosts - The World is Outside

Here is something you're guaranteed to like!
It's like Supergrass meeting Melody Club meeting Klaxons meeting Starsailor meeting Shout Out Louds meeting happy, upbeat, beautiful music!

Songs like "The World is Outside" and "Musical Chairs" are awesome though much like tunes you might have heard before. While "Stop", "Stay the Night" and "Wrapped Up in Little Stars" are incredibly original and fun and brilliant! Must hears!

Tons of energy, an album no longer than 48 minutes but with plenty of spark! You'll be surprised how captivating and addictive it is. The variation is also extremely striking, they possess different genres and use odd sounds in their music, but still make it sound very right.

Perfect for any occasion, so versatile and well-produced you might be frightened - though still hardly revolutionary! This is where conservative brit-pop meets traditional ballads and funky jingles and loud drums, a very strange place.



How it's actually possible to write 24 pages in a book about something so dull and insignificant as the breakthrough of parliamentarianism in Norway and the union with Sweden from 1814 to 1905 - is way beyond me. Hardly very interesting, and very poor entertainment. Basically it was farmers joining the parliament to spit on the laywers, doctors and priests - trying to get through the voice of the 'people' (the 25% of the male population that were allowed to vote). In the middle of all this some mouldy old similarily-named prime ministers and a stubborn Sweden king try to have their say.

A few loud and overrated, bearded politicians "gather the Norwegian people" and get statues and paintings made of themselves. The people of Kristiania (Oslo) is whisking up an armed revolution with weapons and everything when the stubborn Swedish king refuse to pass the law on parliamentarianism in Norway. Led by overrated, bearded politican #1 the people are ready to defend the parliament against the king. They blow the whole thing off and everyone have their fårikål.

There's a law-suit and some fines and bladibla - and the law doesn't really pass through in the end, though the government made parliamentarianism a "habit" and therefore it calls for a celebration. Thrilling story.

In the time that follows nothing of significance happens, though my book insist that it does.

We reinstate a Danish king after voting the Swedes off the island in 1905, dissolving the union after calling the Swedish king a parrot and telling him to piss off (also mentioned is that he's too partial and the equivalence between the countries are a bit uneven). The Danish prince we make king was orignially named Carl, but he changes it to Haakon and it's instant love. He brings along his wife, British princess Maud that we only liked, so that we could maintain our goodwill with Britain.

This and some exciting facts about Norwegian fishing industry makes 24 pages in total.

I spiked my ice-coffe with some kick-ass 100% Arabica and wrote 10 pages with notes about this shit. I will not be able to sleep, and my wrist is in cramps. Oh my!
Picture is of Queen (dronning) Maud.

I believe an explanation is in order

My school-laptop, which has caused me lots of pain throughout the past two years, has now finally bucked under to the immense over-usage. In the end I had to place it carefully down on three accurately positioned pens and press down on the left side, then on the right side, then shift sides, ease the pressure and lift it slightly up from the pen at the back. After repeating this, lifting it up, pressing down and tipping it to the right - it would be somewhere along the looong path of "logging on".

In other words, the poor flapflop was not the least sufficient as a laptop anymore, and despite my intense denial and my magnetic laptop-attraction-force, I had to hand it in to the school tech-support. At first they refused to admit there was anything wrong with it, and that by just refitting windows - it would be as good as new. When I came back a few days later he was filling in this long piece of paper, ready to send it off to repairs. So he asked me (after I had given him a hard time about not listening to me before) what specific problems I had been having with my laptop.

"Well, nothing works. After I realized it was no good as a computer, I tried using it as a snowboard - not a great success to be honest. I then attempted to use it as a mailbox, a chair, a book, a teacup and a sauce ladle - non which proved successful, after this revelation, I gave it to you".

He looked scared and sent it away after I had given the flapflop a nice stroke down the rows of USB-gates and whispered it assuring words, and that it would come home safely. So seeing I am not able to post during class or any other time at school - my feed is getting drafty and the posts sparse. For this I hope you may forgive me, if things go according to plan and my delicious flapflop is returned in a week or two - things will be different around here!

You Will Always be My Love

My newest stop motion animation! Please tell me what you think of it :)

Tranquil Garden

Post # 501.

The only thing one should be forced to do, is to watch "Pride & Prejudice" with stunning Matthew Macfadyen.
And, listen to "Walk on the Wild Side" by Lou Reed.

The days when you would feel like something different, watch "Stardust" with sparkling Claire Danes.
And, listen to "The Man Who Flew Away" by Husky Rescue.

Mankind should do nothing but these tranquil things.LinkTaken in Gardinia di Ninfa, Italy - Click to see previous post about this garden :)
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