Violence in games

I am going to discuss some aspects on game design that I have some opinions about that I need to air. It will be about violence first, then games made for children and then about game universes. I would warn you on some strong imagery, but I rarely see people react to them anymore.

From Manhunt

All human entertainment has at some point contained a large portion of violence and brutality. The circus of the Romans was the bloody massacres of gladiator fights, and other old forms of entertainment like public executions are actually still alive some places today. Like in Afghanistan, Iran and Somalia (where a 13 year old girl that had been raped was buried to the neck in the middle of a football stadium and stoned to death in front of 1000 people for adultery. Her name was Aisho Ibrahim Dhuhulow.) And in some manner or other, whether or not as horrific as the execution of a child in public --violence has always attracted a crowd. Like dog-fights, rooster-fights, bull-fights, even fist-fights - and I could go on.

And when we humans feel sophisticated enough to rise above these primal activities, we find other ways to depict our carnal, violent desires, as such in poems, paintings, books, cartoons, songs, films or, more "recently" in games. And most violent entertainment is often a sort of game, or at least "a competition" to the death, or to the first blood. But on the other hand the most peaceful, unifying activities are also games (though I would argue not all people take peacefully to losing a round of Yatzi). And that is what I am trying to bring across here, in my own, digressing ways.

Though we have a long tradition of worshipping heinous acts as entertainment this is not at all synonymous with saying that all games have to be this way. Though I am personally still surprised to this day on creativity brought into "action"-games (that usually means you are meant to kill things in it) - like a complex and well composed story (Like in the first-person shooter Max Payne!)

From Postal 2

Violence is often brought into games if they lack interesting gameplay, or lack meaning altogether - a lot of gamers appear content smashing things (I think I've played so much Soul Calibur II it might have had permanent effects on me). But there is a difference here, I think designers need to have more respect towards their audience, and most of all - themselves. If you are sitting in a meeting when collaborating on the game concept and idea and decide that it's going to be a shooter game with zombies because you don't have any other interesting ideas that contain any sort of substance. I hope you will have the integrity to reconsider.

And I am not saying it necessarily is a bad thing with violence in games. It can be a very powerful tool for creating an immersion for your audience. But I am definitely not saying it is a good thing either. I know 14 and 11 year old kids that play Modern Warfare 2, and more surprisingly - with their parents blessing. "Because it is less violent than a lot of other games". And I partly agree to this of course, MW2 happens to be a very well-composed game, I admit. And though it really is a lot less violent than a lot of other games... It is still a lot more violent than say - at least a quarter of all the other games on the market.

So what we need to recognise is the essence and the message of what we are trying to convey with our game. I really do hate when people try to give meaning to things that are not meant to have a meaning. Like paintings. It really gets to me sometimes. But if your game is meant to be "a mindless shooter" then I will have respect for that, it is all the mind that is being put into it eventually that scares me. You can't deny that any game will contain some kind of message, whether intended to or not. Tetris, Bejeweled and Pacman not included. So when creating a simple-minded game it is important to remember the complexity it eventually will hold when it is being played by your audience.

You have to weigh every battle and every drop of blood on your conscience and think just how mindless this will appear to the 11 year old child of some "open-minded" parents* and just how much meaning it is going to give to the seasoned 33 year old gamer. Your message is going to be given out to all of those who are up to the challenge, and it can be ever as subtly glorifying violent behaviour or condone acts that in society are unforgivable. The shock-value of extreme, gory violence is down to a nil. Throwing intestines, brains, unborn children and still-beating hearts above your head by a chainsaw will give about as strong a reaction from today's audience as a crab taking a shit on another crab, on a beach. It is worth absolutely nothing. So we got to ask ourselves, when violence only work as some sort of "filler", is it really necessary?

From Postal 2

I applaud the minds that find new ways of making videogames interesting and still not include any violence whatsoever when running out of ideas for what the game should contain. Games are to me one of the most incredibly versatile and powerful mediums we have today - you don't deserve to create them if all you do is to slip into a pattern as old as mankind - that the best entertainment is served hot, with a lot of sticks and stones.

* I will clarify here that developers can't be responsible for their content when it's not viewed by the appropriate audience as stated by age-limits and approvals. What a child brings into a household is completely the parent's responsibility.

Spice up your biscuits

Mh! Hello you.

Now, how do you feel about storing your biscuits together with the spices?
I think it's just such a lovely way to bring a bit of extra multi-cultural excitement into your home on a daily basis.

Really. When I brew myself a warm, soothing pot of green tea with lemon, there is nothing better to me than the surprise of finding my packet of Bixit Oat biscuits to taste like enchiladas. This might not seem fair to you, because, as an unenlightened, you have not yet been introduced to the astounding world of post-flavouring an already flavoured biscuit. But in truth it couldn't be more obvious.

It only takes an already violated packet of your favourite biscuit to be unconventionally stored in the same drawer or shelf as say your barbecue seasoning or all the rosemary, cumin, thyme, garlic and taco spice you could possibly get your hands on. The more the merrier!

And the best of all is that it will only take one night. Just a casual one night stand with less-casual consequences. And the result, well - what can I say... ? You have never tasted anything quite like it. Forgive me for sounding so bitter, I probably shouldn't be eating those biscuits in the first place, but that couldn't be further from the point.

Obviously, unless you really are as weird as I would assume - there is nothing worse on the planet (perhaps, in a surreal way, apart from burnt raisins) than dipping your gjende-kjeks into an ice-cold glass of milk and to find it tasting like the Mattancherry Cochin spice market in Kochi.
What is your problem? Why can't you just put the poor, innocent biscuits in a different place, say, like up where we store the peanut butter and the syrup?

Why, I guess we'll just never know.

The Things I Don't Like 2.0

On November 4th 2006 I blogged about the things I don't like. Now I reread it for some reason, and I must say I now entirely disagree with many of the statements! Now there were 28 different things on my last list, so I will now create an entirely new list and see what things I still dislike, because I now found that some of what I used to hate has now earned my respect. Green tea! I used to dislike green tea! That's just downright outrrrrageous.

And I have serious trouble understanding why I wouldn't eat pickles. You say the word 'pickle' and I now hear the word 'gold', as contrary to 'poop'. Really. I actually used to think that pickles was the champion of being beastly and repellent. *GASP* Well, anyway, here goes my new, revised list. Just click the link above and you can see the old one!

1. To be sad
2. Cakes made with almonds
3. Marzipan
4. Tinned mushrooms (bleugh!)
5. Ruccola (or rocket salad, if you like)
6. Vinegar-based coleslaw
7. Tights
8. Programming
9. Fresh coriander (tastes like garden snails)
10. Chess
11. Phone-surveys
12. Swedes, especially the ones "here to party, oh I touched your boob"
13. Lady Gaga
14. Pencils that break when you sharpen them
15. Cross-country skiing (Aaah! No! Please!!!)
16. Cakes of make-up on people's faces

17. Tampon advertisements (Grr!)

18. Gin & Tonic

19. People walking slowly

20. Revolving doors revolving slowly

21. Smelly people, either smelling of pee or of really heavy perfumes

22. Furniture of pine-tree

23. Social-network statuses of the kind: 10 days left. (Until WHAT?!)

24. Books that wont read themselves

25. Handsome vampires that don't really exist

26. Ungratefulness

27. Uncommenting blog-readers

28. Ehm. I'm sure there's something.

So, smartypants. What about you?

I don't like you!

I think Norway kind of overloaded as we won the Eurovision songcontest on the very night before our national day. Everyone were running around in the streets screaming, singing "Fairytale". On my way (running) late for work today, I heard it thump out of a taxi window. And on May 17th everyone we're just so excited that they almost talked to strangers. Which is extremely rare up here, we pretty much stick to our own.

The only exception is on May 17th, because nothing is such a grand display of unity and of loving thy neighbour as the disgusting behaviour of Norwegians on May 17th. It's almost unappetizing. But being a reflected young woman, being influenced by other cultures and lifestyles through the wonders of globalization I manage to realize that perhaps the warm and hearty approach we have to strangers on this exceptional day - should be how we always behave towards each other. We could obviously skip a couple of the overly gooey gestures, but keep the concept at least, of being pleasant to things we're unfamiliar with.

We can't exactly hide the fact that our "civilized" population ia absolutely packed with prejudices. Particularly racism. I don't think it shines through very clearly a lot of the time because the topic is so extremely taboo, and everyone are being so meticulous about disguising it as being racist is considered medieval and primitive - which is true, obviously.

It's just that some types of racism is difficult to cloak, Norwegians hate strangers, we really do. I wont say we are abnormally paranoid or hostile, it's just that we're so evasive. We avoid confrontations, just like we're avoiding the problem at hand. We wont trust anyone with anything, but if we do as an exception, we wont hesitate to say "I told you so" if it goes wrong. We get along with our neighbours just because we have to. And we're also positively the first to break out a prejudicive remark or crack a joke on the topic. It comes extremely natural to us, perhaps a little bit too much.

I'm not saying we're all like that, an extraordinary lot of us are enjoying the variety of people, food, music, work, art or whatnot that is brought to us from other cultures and adopted by our own. I wonder how often a Norwegian haves taco, or stir fry, or chicken tikka masala or even just kebab without actually considering how lucky we are to be able to enjoy this delighful variety of foods - and why. Well hello you, I tell you something - your grandpa sure as hell didn't dig the chicken tikka out of the ground at his classical Norwegian farm. This topic is actually quite hard to write about, because it's so moronically unlogical.

But anyway, a japanese couple came into the shop and bought a lot of cutlery from me, they were so joyous that they gave me a piece of chocolate before they left! Thank you!

Took this by the river. Norway is pretty in the spring. No?

Ravenous Röyksopp

As you may be well aware of - Röyksopp have shockingly allowed their entire new album (Junior) to be heard for free on their website even though the official release date isn't until March 23rd. Pretty far out!

http://royksopp.com/music/junior

But on the other hand everything leaks out on the interwebs pre-release anyway-- so they might as well pretend like they approve of it. And all the fans are most likely going to purchase the album anyway (and if not - that still doesn't matter) as most their income from this release will probably be from live performances. So far I'm really falling from the track featuring Lykke Li - "Miss it So Much" it's cotton-candy sweet, an excellent tune - really. I'm not yet convinced, but I'll listen through some more while paying attention and then come back to you with a full review (if you like). 

Also a kick to prejudice in general. I am so sick of it. What is the point of judging everything by its cover? Nobody has anything to earn from it, not short term, not long term. Nothing. In fact - the most inspiring and rewarding acts are those of allowing to be influenced by new impulses, meeting new people, new cultures, new music - new ways of life. While some may have reason to be sceptical, nobody have reason enough to treat other people unfairly when they don't even know them. Just like with gays! Who people kiss or sleep with really isn't any of my business just like who I kiss and sleep with is no one elses business. So as long as I don't get judged by who I love - I wont judge anyone by the same.

I feel we have the right to be judgmental when someone is getting hurt - and sometimes the one getting judged is the victim. So when you are being judgmental, you are worse than anyone. If I catch you doing it - I wont be merciful in my verdict!

I'm hungry :<

(Illustration done in paint.net)

Night out

I'm just curious - where exactly on my forehead does it say that I take general interest in not patricularily beautiful men with very bad pick-up lines? No, I'm serious. It must say somewhere on my face, I'm sure. Just like it says somewhere on my behind that I prefer sleazy swedes with overtime at S.A.T.S. to grab hold of me.

And when you have told me exactly where these messages are spelt out - I will remove them. because they are faults, they are errors, they are not true! And any bald-headed bergenese monkey wishing to contradict - may do so, but will fail. Miserably.

Please, when this has been done, you must also tell me why there are no people in this city, and why all the purty guys have already been taken. Especially the one that looked like the lead singer in The Kooks, which was a shame. And then, after that, tell me where the creativity has gone when you tell someone to take a wild, crazy pick - and they return with Gin & Tonic.

Yeah, so, thanks a bunch. I believe that will explain a few things.

And -- Eeeeugh, hair smells like cigarettes. Blaeh!

Chocolate muffin? Sweet Corn and Chili Muffin?

Edit: And maybe they should read this guide.
Edit II: I want to go snowboarding again.

Visiting sister

'Few years ago I visited my sister in Bergen to come party at her school. It was a particularly good party - though at some point my sister completely vanished.

I was wandering around by myself at this party for several hours, half-dancing, half-chatting and half-searching for my sister. It was a wicked party and there were people everywhere. I got trapped in a room full of singing people and then told nasty stories about my sister to complete strangers to make sure her reputation lived un suitably unpolished.

Naturally (as time is quite natural) it was getting late - or as some would say - early. Coincidentally I ran into her flatmates and they suggested I'd just get myself home, with or without my sister, because somehow she always managed to get herself back to where she belonged. Whatever planet that may be. I have pondered about this.

Moments after I stepped outside I found my sister, getting followed out by two large guards and obviously arguing stubbornly with them. I said something along the lines of "I think this belongs to me" and grabbed my sister by the arm. Even though this was in late, shitting cold autumn she was wearing nothing but a toga and had a silk scarf tied around her curly head.

As we walked away and over to the taxi-queue she insisted on going into the little grocery department by the petrol station. Bamboozled I was unable to get a proper answer to why, so I guided her over to the queue.

Before I knew it, she had snuck to the front of the line and was accusing the guy first of stealing her taxi. There was a long line of people, and I felt as small as a tin of German sardines. Then again, I wasn't coming back for another year, I was cold and also considerably under influence - I obviously did not interfere with the conversing just to see where it could get me.

With a smug smile my sister elegantly pulled me into the taxi after a few nicely put comments and the taxi drove off, the driver even nodding at her remarks. He asked us where we were going and I didn't know so I looked helplessly at her, so she muttered and I nodded. And then she fell asleep.

Safely home we walked into the apartment and I started peeling off my clothes, my sister had sat down to have a bowl of fruits of the forest yoghurt with muesli. I fell flat into her double bed and snuggled into the duvet, all warm and comfortable and my feet throbbing of soreness from the shoes. Few minutes later Sigrid crawled into the bed and then let out a hearty belch.

I have not had fruits of the forest yoghurt muesli since.

Google Ads

I wont have any of that "I think your Christmas-pimping of this blog has gone a bit overboard, missus". I just wont have it. Alright? Christmas is only once a year, in case you didn't notice. And if I want to turn my blog into an explosion of colours, stars, glitter, sparkles, ribbons, hearts, suns and rainbows - I flippin will. So I did. I even added christmas stockings.

Oh! You know what happened? - I was peacefully dredging through Glitter-Graphics.com (one of my very favourite websites) I suddenly noticed that the computer-generated Google-advertisement said, right next to "MySpace Layout",


Ads by Google
Hot latina banging a midget
MySpace Layouts
Blog Graphics
Free Image Hosting

I don't think I saw any, but I ran to the bathroom and washed my eyes in chlorine just in case, because you never know what you might find along your way through the intarnet.

Illegal

Many things should be illegal, but above all I believe that making a remix of music that I love should be one of them.

I don't give much of a hat if Craig David decides to do a cover of "Hot Stuff - Let's Dance', or if Gym Class Heroes get a lot of credit, even though they stole their chorus of 'Cupids Chokehold' from Supertramp's 'Take a Look at My Girlfriend'.

But when Kanye West steal the sexy lines from Daft Punk's brilliant homework to create the song 'Stronger' - which is a waste of space, by the way - someone should be arrested.

And, not to forget Fergie's gruesome rape of The Verve's beautiful 'Bittersweet Symphony' in her inter-stinky smell-smell remix of that song and her own 'London Bridge'.

Jail I say! Lifetime! How can they do these things? Why do they get away with it?

I think they should start making their own, bloody music. And lay off the good shit.

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.

Ka-plouchie!

Today I removed the cobwebs from my bike, rolled it down the gravelled path and out on the road in front of my house. As I treaded down for the first time and attempted (in vain) to steady it - it engulfed me that this was indeed very difficult. I changed gear and continued down the road, which went more easily after a little while, but when I started to climb up the hill - the bike continued to be impossible with me.

Minutes later, having given up on the bike with thighs like guitar-strings and a bouncy death-pace to my trot, I suddenly realized that one of my tyres were flat! How breathtakingly annoying!

When I come home, I will smash my face in with a shovel and then I will smash the bike, with a spork, for that extra sporky-painfulness.

Back 2 school

Who's idea was that, anyway?

Pretty ruddy if you ask me, I don't like it, really, it is unflattering and silly. And there are lice in it, I don't like lice, they disgust me. Especially school lice, they are the worst kind of lice. Why can't they just go away?!

Off with you, school lice,
you vermin, you pests, away with you all, you are repulsive and smell of filthy, bobbing cardboard chicken.

Verdict

It is with quite a clean conscience I allow myself to turn the heater on at dusk. While mother nature is having many issues (some which we have found best to ignore, while others we blow up and wear as hats), I'm having quite a few issues myself.

One of them is that my room in the attic is cold.
In fact, it is freezing. I will not allow it, I do not accept it, for thousands of years not just Norwegians -but everyone have snuggled under duvets and animal skins as night enrolls. I intend to do no different.
The overwhelming darkness and the icy winds will rather encourage me than make me strip and boogie to "Sonny" or any other song by Boney M.

When (meaning the very moment I wrote this) the chills and silence of night has approached me. My radiator is at the ready, and a certain viking will surely be wrapped safely into cotton pyjamas with muffins on it, duvets and be propped up on feather-stuffed pillows.

Because frankly...
Cold is being voted off the island - For good!

New music!

I really can't explain how much I love new music. I simply love it.
There is really nothing similar to purchasing a CD, slamming it lovingly into the discdrive and watch it load into your iTunes library. I am quite picky about music, but that has not directly contradicted some major flaws in my highly respective library.
I admit there to be songs by both Ozone, Shakira, Daniel Bedingfield, Ricky Martin, John Legend, Wig Wam, Phil Collins, Nickelback, Steely Dan, Wet wet wet, The Rasmus, Queen, Shania Twain, Vanilla Ice, Tragédie, Manic Street Preachers, Lou Bega, Josh Groban, Destiny's Child, Linkin Park... And numerous other artists which I personally despise in there.

The reason for these far-fetched and uniquely disgusting artists having found a home in my library is due to years of sharing space with relatives such as siblings and a very music-loving father. Loving music is to some, like loving nature; whether it's slammed in your face - all muddy, rough, wet, sloppy and ready - or if it is found close and dear to your heart, deep and tender, warm and soothing. Being a worshipper of music means you have to make certain sacrifices, to some this will mean a waste of discspace.

The appealing side of having such a wide (though not necessarily good) selection of music, is knowing that nearly anyone can sit down with your computer and find a song they like! Think of it as having a very deep and expensive wine cellar, just that in some shelves, you store things like coconut-beer and apple-strüdel alcopop as well.

Today I added songs by these artists to my library:
King Midas
Arctic Monkeys
Peter, Björn & John
Duke Special
The Arcade Fire
Paolo Nutini
Jet
Rooney
Dirty Pretty Things
Modest Mouse

Starve the feeding world

Even though a blogger reach a certain point where one is bound to discover ones RSS feed is actually fully potent of feeding a small third world country, like Malawi or Ghana, there is this little squirming seed of inspiration that will eventually force you back to the keyboard again.

It is hard getting rid of old habits, especially habits which are addictive as well, addictive or fun.
Today I held a full bottle of "Flaggpunsch" in my hand, I could not buy it because I had forgotten to bring my 21 yr. old ID-card, which is a shame, honestly,
You see I have been in Sweden, in Kläppen in fact, snowboarding, and it was straight out faaaaaantaaaaaastic. It is a wonder I have yet to develop diabetes 2, because I have been eating an amount of sugar which is approximately equal to the amount of snow in which I have tumbled around in.
I realise now that it will be extraordinary difficult to wait for next winter, it is too long, and I am going to miss snowboarding this year more than previous years seeing I love it more now than ever ever ever ever before.

In Sweden I have also through my ears indigested an unhealthy amount of "High School Musical" and Phil flippin Collins, which can quite frankly go straight to Blokksberg and never ever come back. My ears are bleeding and weeping in a mixed soup of depression, anger, sadness, sickness and incredible frustration, I can't believe people expose themselves to such pain on purpose! They actually sit down and devour such utter shitty and horrible music, it is a disgrace for the music market as a whole, an insult to every instrument and certainly a form of speaker-system repetative rape. Some of the worse songs I have had to sit through, hating every second, damning every little annoying note and swearing to never do such a gruesome thing to my precious ears again! SERIOUSLY. Well it is not as if I had much of a choice, it was all forced on me, pressed down my throat like rust down a drain, scraping out my soul and leaving it fleshy and open. So much for socializing, you just realise that in the end, other people are just people with repulsive taste in music. Ain't it?

This weekend I am going to Bergen, there it will probably rain. Thank God I appear not to shrink in water.

160 drops of vikingblood

Two days ago in the shop where I work, a woman came by, she ordered 160 packages of 2 menu candlelight holders in clear glass.
She wanted them wrapped each box seperately.
160 presents!

My hands are stained with 7 seperate wounds, menu has marked me with my own red blood.


okay, that is my hand, my chimney and taken by my camera, but it so most certainly is red wax and not blood.

The wather, stop making a mess.

Yesterday's papers displayed a giant picture of a cinema covered in filthyness. Apparently, Norwegians are horrible at cleaning up after themselves and the movie theatres (as well as the streets, public buildings and transport) suffer from great economical cutbacks due to a terrible upbeat of unpolite behaviour.

I know this first hand, at my school - which is actually part of the "Environment Lighthouse" collaboration - is absolutely disgusting.
At the part of town where I live (which is the "right" part of town, also known as the west-side) have a youth so spoiled and inconsiderate it is nearly to go spastic over. (I also discovered that the flourescently lit sign for the gaming-store "Spaceworld", was missing its "e", and now spelled "Spac World").

All day long, two of the schools employees go around and wipe up all the filth which the students have left behind. It is absolutely ridiculous, trust me when I say that they would never have done anything similar if they were at home - no sir!

This morning at 8 o' clock it was -15 C degrees out. My skin froze to my face like a swollen, unnaturally stiff mask.

Gone with the dim

I had the unique pleasure of enjoying the last few hours of this weekend watching "A Room with a View", which was, I must say - incredibly enjoyable.

The last hour, however, I have spent hidden under a set of pillows catching glimpses of "War of the Worlds" - which I found, on the contrary to the previous film; to be extremely exhausting. I will not, as long as I live, see that film again, it was horrid and frightening, and it made me jump on several occassions. The music and acting (though not always convincing) was sufficient enough to scare me well out of my good skin.

In other news, the expansion package to the MMORPG "World of Warcraft" - called "The Burning Crusade" - is released according to my sources: on January 16th.

After getting a positive response to my return on Thursday, you might consider me gone with the dim as I return to the World of Warcraft for an unknown period of time. To make sure playing does not go out of hand, I warmly encourage people that acknowledge my existence of giving me a proper slap in the face if I start to talk about the game.

I have had a break from the game for over 5 months, and will accordingly continue to live as normal and steady as possible.

Skin

Several times a month I get more aware of how the human body is being repressed and neglected. Not just in religions and cultures demanding people to cover up parts of their body to show respect for their god(s) or to show that they are of a certain class – but also daily life. In the media, everywhere!

Half of the world’s got one, the other half has seen one – there’s nothing new about body parts. They have always been there, body parts, they’re made of muscles, bones, skin and flesh, nothing at all to be ashamed of, afraid of or to hide. Though we all deep down know this, a majority of the planet choose to make the human body a part of a deep, sinning taboo. This is not about free sex, peace and love – whoohoo! No, this is about humans having confidence, and to remove barriers that make the cultures crash together and create conflict between them.

Of course variety and cultural differences are parts of what which makes this world so fascinating, but there is no reason to take it this far. Children for example, they have a deep urge and passion for running around naked. It’s about physical contact; it’s about being down to earth and realistic about one’s existence. Why teach your own offspring that his or hers body is evil? Why be afraid of changing clothes in the changing rooms of a public facility, like a swimming pool, or the ordinary gym down the road? There is no logical explanation to the hysteria around it.

Thinking about it, it is actually quite ridiculous, I’m not saying that me – myself run around without a thread or that I’m never embarrassed about nudity, but I’m saying that it is wrong. If children is taught that it is wrong to be naked, will they grow to think that their body is evil and that they are to wrap themselves up to hide the incarnation of their soul? What kind of way is that to begin a life, you have your body your entire life, it’s not as if you can go around and hate having it, you’re forever stuck with it anyway, so you’d better just make the best of it. If the norms do not differ soon, everyone will be having sex in pitch dark, and who knows what will come of that!

Humans are not any more dirty, disgraceful creatures than other animals. Though our skin naturally needs to be protected from sun and cold because of us not having anything but a thin layer of skin instead of fur, this doesn’t justify for the deep taboo about being a human being, a creature, an animal, a breathing – independent person.

Nutty

It is not new to any of you reader(s?) that I am quite a harebrain. In the morning I like to pretend like I am going to be teleported to a colder and more primitive dimension any minute. So if I was to suddenly be torn off the surface of this earth and plant my feet on alien grounds - what would I like to wear?

It is a natural thing to do anyway, when you have a cold room and you're going to work or to school, you do dress quickly anyway. But of course the "quick-I-have-school-waiting" rapid-dressing is less interesting and exciting than pretending to be on the very brink of embarking on an adventure. Socks, underwear, they come on first, a bit of perfume maybe, a top, jeans, a jumper, brushed hair, a bit of eyeliner maybe, some jewellery to trade myself out of slavery with. Rings, a bit of rouge, shoes, scarf and hairspray. If I am preparing myself for the sensation of cross-dimension teleporting I am sure I'll be ready for any day in this dull country, so though it is fucked up beyond reason and recognition - it is still sensible. It makes sense, it's not completely useless.

You can say I am paranoid in other ways too, I look over my shoulder, I look over my shoulder again, I speed up slightly, I keep tossing glances over my shoulder, I really start to pick up a stressful pace, I continue to look behind me and shortly after I'm running. Only a few minutes later I'll be gasping for breath and have eyes the size of licence-plates. Do not fret though, to be deranged is a tough job, and somebody's gotta do it. I am not the only nutcase in town, and you wont be seeing me tread on drains.