Who put the 'ew' in 'news'?

Just a quick update with some news stories that bodes well for the world:
- A nice inspiration for science fiction fans can be found in this lovable cult's love shack. What's up with jolly old Britain, anyway?
- Despite a few noisy nights, I can't say I've ever had a neighbour as crazy as this. I mean, booby-trapping plant pots? Come on. Points for creativity and perserverance, though.
- And lastly: Old women killing homeless people for fun and profit. Only in America. Hopefully.

Fuck-a-doodle-do

Alright, here it is: Exams depressions. Most of you probably know what it's like; it's not just doing everything except what you're supposed to be doing and consequently feeling guilty about it, it's also every other paranoia resurfacing when you need it the least. Everyone is your enemy, they all hate you and want you to fail miserably, not just at these exams, oh no, I'm talking life here. Even the sun only has one simple goal: To see you, face-down, crying and yelling in the middle of a motorway, waiting for it all to end. You won't be hit by any cars today, however, because all the fucking drivers are in on it.
Anyway, it's not just other people, is it? Oh no, mostly it's just yourself. You're a born fucking loser, and you know it. No wonder there's noone there to comfort you, you simply don't deserve it. You can't even manage to pass some unimportant exams, how the hell are you going to suceed at anything else? You'll end up on the dole, on the street, in some fucking alley getting assraped by the leaders of your country as they laugh maniacally and wave their money in front of you.

It's all your own fault, after all, for not doing shit about it until now. You thought you were clever enough, but now you know you're not. As you sit in front of the massive pile of books (just when did those books get so fucking big, anyway?), you try to make out the words on the page but it's all a blur. And then you know, instinctively, that it's not going to be okay. It's not going to work out in the end. You, my friend, are totally and utterly fucked.

Good luck on the spring exams, everyone!

Make it reggae!

I have discovered something. It would seem that, each year, some parts of the ground (you know, the one outside) goes green. At these green spots, people have appeared, and lots of them. Many of these people are women with little or no clothes on them. My brain is still trying to process it all, but as far as I can tell these women are either grown directly on the spot or extremely attracted to green. I have made a mental note on buying lots of green clothes, as a direct result of this.

Also, I have disturbing news for readers of this blog. It seems that exposion to the sun, half-naked women, and reggea has had an unfortunate effect on my mood. I am actually experiencing short, painful moments of contentedness. This may appear as a good thing. However, it leaves me in short supply of stuff to whine about here, such as the lack of said elements. Luckily, the answers may be right ahead: The dreaded Spring Exams are on their way. My cashflow is not so much flowy as it is jerky. I do not have a job for the summer, nor a place to live. In short: Things will soon be back to normal. Don't despair, let me do that for you.

In other news: Recent studies (made by me) suggests that reggae is good for you. A lack of music has actually caused the extinction of several species of animals, mostly mammals. As we know, people are mammals (and rude ones, at that). So, in order to avoid extinction; make it reggae!

(Oh, and in case you're wondering where to start, try the Dynamite! series from Soul Jazz Records. I have recently been exposed to #3 in the series, it will r0xx0r your s0xx0rz)

Time to get ill

Righ, just to let you know: In case you've been wondering where my promised weekly updates have gone, I've taken sick leave from this blog (and almost everything else) for a spell. I am, however, going to get better soon, because my plan for world domination depends on it.

I have said too much.

Anyway, since this writing is nothing more than pure, digitalized thoughts, does this post even exist? Now that's something for you dogs to chew on until next time.

Get the shotgun, Edie.

There was a POST here..

..it's gone now.

Tigers and Monsters

Right. I'm trying to update this thing at least once a week these days, so excuse me if some of the posts (like this one) might seem a bit unnecessary. I'm quite drained of everything resembling energy, creativity and will to move. This is because of a small city called Oslo, which I've now returned to. Once called the tiger-town by some depressed writer, it's a city that makes one want to run through the streets with a lawnmower, Braindead-style. It's tiny, but thinks it's huge, it's rabidly obsessed with money and appearances, it's got some of the most americanized people in Norway who somehow manages to proclaim their disgust for the same country-god they worship. In other words, it's probably like every damn city in the world: Depressing as hell, but one cannot help but love it. The point: I'm back, baby, and I'm having a bad day. Let's just chalk it up to urban lag, not because I've crossed a time zone, but because I've been thrust straight into another fucking dimension..

..which ties into my next item nicely. Oh, and if you're of a nervous disposition, or rather, if you don't enjoy having your nerves torn out of your skin, tossed around, chewed, spit out and pissed upon, you might wanna ignore this next part. But if you, on the other side, love having nightmares (hey, it's better than being bored all the time, right?) you really should consider a vacation. Clicky this linky to see an.. advert.. for a nice, foggy tourist town. They are expecting you.

The Angry-La Fortune Cookie

When in doubt, kill yourself.

Weekend of w00tness

For those who are wondering, I'm currently at home in my parents house in the beautiful, but boring, Norwegian countryside. Visiting former hunting grounds invariably means meeting old friends, which in turn often leads to parties. So, as to not upset the natural order of the universe, last saturday me and some friends came together for a shindig.
It started quite innocently, with drinking, music, and fun for the whole family. Then we shipped ourself off to the local beer den, which resulted in heartbroken wallets, but still, nothing mayor. Due to the excessive amount of people out last weekend, however, getting a taxi proved rather difficult, but we finally found one after spending half an hour walking in minus 25 degrees celsius. And that's when the w00t kicked in.

There was song (depending on your definition. There was, at least, loud noises coming out of our mouths). There was wine (quite literally. Wine was found in strange places the day after). And there was dancing; of the homoerotic kind, none the less, complete with a strange fascination with spanking. There was women, as well, but as far as I can remember they neither gave nor received the spanking. Finally, there was some serious headbanging performed by yours truly, and I have to say I still haven't fully recovered. My neck has been aching like hell the last few days, but that's what you get when you don't stop rocking when it hurts. And we didn't stop rocking for quite some time (and it did, indeed, hurt). I'm excpecting a love letter from the neighbours any day now, let's hope they enjoyed the music.

Divine Intervention

Let us assume, for a moment, that God exists. No, let's go further than that: Let's pretend that I am God (really not much of a stretch). I have just created Man. I feel quite content with myself. Maybe I'm patting myself on the back, saying, "Wow, Me, that was a clever one!". This does not last long, of course. Because Man starts bickering, and bullying each other, and I'm all, "wait a second, this wasn't the plan!" and I start trying to fix it. Floods, plagues, earthquakes, disco, I'm pulling all the stops in order to get rid of the bastards, but somehow, that's always the ones coming out on top. So, naturally, I'm now thinking: "Well, I tried. Now fuck this, I'm outta here!" After that I'd probably just retire, or maybe start over on some other planet far far away.

This is presuming I'm a nice God. Because, if even someone who's omnipotent (me) couldn't manage to weed out the bastards, they're here to stay. While not the main point of this post, my example also serves as a giant "fuck you" to all the "final solution"-believers out there. You cannot fight evil with evil. But I digress.

What then, if I'm a more human-like God? What if Man really were made in My image? Think about it: We humans sure like our soaps. The stories we tell and enjoy the most are the ones with lots of conflict and misery, and we often like the bad guys best, as well. In this case God would be no exception. So it would be natural for Me (still God, in case you'd forgotten) to build the world as a giant soap opera stage. I start it simple, with cavemen bashing each other in the head. But my need for intrigue grows, so I begin complicating things. Soon the stories grow, the conflict intensifies and the stage becomes truly epic, with empires falling, religious wars, weapons of mass destruction and economic collapse.
In one episode, some amazing discoveries are made, where the past truly comes out to haunt the religious leaders (the dinosaurs). In another, a tiny angry man kickstarts a dormant war machine which in turn leads to the attempted genocide of the Jews. And quite recently (and quite brilliantly, if I may say so myself) a dane with good intentions starts riots across most of the muslim world when he prints some cartoons of one of my most prominent protagonists. My continuity is flawless, even though I sometimes have trouble with character development. But: I watch it, and I see that it is good. I am God, and I demand to be entertained!

Then again, it's obvious that I'm not especially fond of happy endings.

The Holy Drugs

Edit: I seem to have fucked up the font, so get your glasses out. I'm sure there's some cosmic irony in it, but I flatly refuse to learn from it.

Right, so if you are a member of the religious group O Centro Espirita Beneficente Uniao do Vegetal you are now allowed to do drugs, according to the US Supreme Court. Or, specifically, you're allowed to drink hoasca tea, containing the hallicugenic substance DMT, which is (usually) illegal, during ceremonies. Of course, these guys need some synthetic help in doing what religious people have been doing for thousand of years by sheer delusion, namely connecting with God. I suspect that this group will soon be getting quite the increase in it's congregation, although one may start to wonder why they didn't add in some more gods, connected to separate types of drugs, while they were at it. That way they could all worship their drug-Lord of choice, and the hardcore religious types could worship all at once, thereby earning enormous respect and maybe be given a place as a holy man. Anyway, this uplifting story has given me inspiration: I'm currently planning a religion in which we worship the holy Mary Jane. The only way to understand this holiest of holies is, of course, by smoking vast amounts of.. well, I'm sure you can figure out the rest. So, who's with me?

The Angry-La newsreel:
- Norwegians perform crappily in the Olympics, while the Swedes run off with one gold after another. Norway is currently moping about this and blaming it on our neighbours (and, probably, especially the muslim community there).
- The police have started arresting buyers of weed from the local drugstore. While the area in question has turned into a really unpleasant place to pass (unless you consider being surrounded by foreigners whose sole Norwegian vocabulary consists of the words "buy" and "drugs" a fun time), and the method probably will turn out to be most effective (since most of the buyers are hip people and students, not what you would call hardened criminals), it still is worrying. First off, we're talking about a crime that would be victimless had it not been a crime. Second, if the repercussions for the arrested go beyond a good scare, students will have to work more and study less to pay off the fines. And if they're going to jail, who will bring the fat fucks at the police station their pizza? But I won't cry out "police state" just yet. The morale, of course, is this: Help your fellow students get by; buy your weed from them instead of the shifty guy at the corner.
- A Norwegian soap called "Hotel Caesar" is being accused of destroying the minds of young children because it had a shotgun it one episode. If you ask me, violence is not what's going to make their brains rot, the crapness of the series will take care of that.

Cartoons of Mass Destruction

I finally googled the Mohammad cartoons and my computer didn't explode, which was a relief. I like my computer, you see. It also made me realize that the embassy raiders didn't just overreact, they dug their own moral graves. Before the extremely violent reactions of last week, I was willingly dismissing the printing of said cartoons as stupid, at best. But now, well.. let's just go over some ground rules, shall we?
First of all, violence, or the threat of violence, is an unacceptable reaction to any situation except, sometimes, if you're acting in self-defense. Or if you're a ninja.
Second, if you subscribe to a religion then, by all means, follow it's rules. But never, ever, try and force others to respect it. If you wish to worship the Holy Cocoa Bean then go right ahead, but that doesn't mean I'll quit eating chocolate in public.
Third, freedom of speech is necessary for freedom of religion. Easy as that. Fight the one and you automatically fight the other.

However, the question remains: Was the cartoons offensive? As has repeatedly been pointed out by most intelligent beings: While Jyllands-Posten and all others who chose to print the drawings had an unquestionable right to do so, that doesn't make it smart (or tactful). After all, unless you're a ninja, you really shouldn't go around offending people for no good reason. So we return to the question: Offensive or no? Decide for yourself, if you haven't seen them; feel free to use the link provided at the start of this post. That page also includes the three fake drawings (the ones brought to the Middle East by a Danish imam without any trace of common sense), something you might find helps shed some light on the whole burning and pillaging thing.
If you want more, The Mohammed Image Archive is a collection of different depictions of the prophet throughout history, including Persian art and, of course, Danish cartoons. And these political cartoons discuss the controversy in far greater depth than any blog, even one as brilliant as my own, ever could. As they say, a picture is worth a thousand embassies.

Latest news: US vice-president Dick Cheney shoots a guy while hunting. Unofficial sources say Dick claimed the man "had some weapons of mass destruction under his coat".

Murderer sighted!

The Killer, wearing the victims head as a mask. A truly gruesome vision.

I wasn't too bothered by the sight, though. As previously indicated, I was quite drunk.

Murder!

The victim of a senseless slaughter. Blame it on the tequila. Also notice the dishwashing utensil to the left, I have no idea what it is doing there.

Swing it

Saw Swingers last night. Last time I did was about 10 years ago, at which time I enjoyed it. Luckily I didn't remember much except that it was funny and charming, which made last night's viewing all the more sweet. Now, however, the movie resonated in a way denied me the last time, 'cause hey, let's face it: I was no playa at the age of 14.
That's not saying I am one now, but at least I know the score. I've seen the cruel, eat-or-be-eaten world of the nubs and the nightclubs. And that's why the main characters continued rejections and mishaps gets me straight in the self-esteem, while knocking my chair back laughing. I feel with the guy, I laugh knowingly with him at his embarrasing fuck-ups and, in the end, I taste the victory, I feel the bunny between my teeth (as they say..) when he finally strikes paydirt. So, with no further ado: As always, I command you to take a jog down to the video store, rent Swingers, and enjoy. Afterwards you may masturbate if you want. Just watch it through to the end first (you can hold it that long, can't you?). Because: It's money, baby.

And this place is dead, anyway.

Random update

Ha ha! Now noone can tell me I never update this thing.
Oh, you want content, do you? You are bored, and want me to provide your rotting brain with fresh waste? Okay, here's what you do: Go watch this big ad (it's really big). Then go masturbate.

When you're done (unless you wanna do it again, which is allowed, as long as you don't let your girlfriend/boyfriend see you, unless he/she likes to watch you do your thing, which may or may not be normal but shan't be discussed in depth at this time) go download the original Elder Scrolls: Arena, since it's been released as freeware and all, and play it. By the time you're done with it I'll probably have plenty more posts for you.

But wait, there's more: Me and a buddy wasted a whole afternoon playing this little gem, which is (like all good time-wasters) deceptively simple, but highly addictive. Oh, and it's a demo, so if you feel the price for an upgrade is too steep, you could always buy yourself a brand new Mac, 'cause they come equipped with the full version. If you ask me, that's the best reason for buying one, anyway.

One more game for the road: If you've never played Samorost, go do so now. It's free, short, and brilliant, and way too cute for me to provide a link. If you've never googled before in your life, now's as good a time as any to start.