How many Husseins can a Saddam Hussein?

The insane year of 2006 is over, as some of you probably know, and from the look of things, 2007 is going to be just as demented. This article about an Indian village naming all their children "Saddam Hussein" definitely proves my point. I especially loved the last statement:

"In the playground we have Saddam Hussein running after Saddam Hussein, behind Saddam Hussein who is ahead of Saddam Hussein but too far from Saddam Hussein... it can all get a little confusing," he (villager Mohammed Hassan Abbas) said.

Yeah. I trust my readers to already know who this so-called "Saddam Hussein" was and how he, quite recently, ended his life. It was all quite ugly. Of course, only crazy people cries for a guy like that, but there's politics in this, which complicates matters. Let me put it this way: A high-profile court case like this should not be handled by a bloodthirsty mob that only wants revenge. I mean, yeah, if my family had been persecuted, tortured, killed and whatnot by someone, I too would probably be pretty pissed at that person and would want to see him (or, in the interests of equal rights, her) very very dead. I'm not saying it's not understandable, I'm just saying it's moronic. So now Saddam is more popular than he ever was while alive, and the western world a little more hated. Nice work, everyone!

Of course, Saddams wasn't the only celebrity death last year. Actually, 2006 was a pretty risky year to be famous, it was a regular superhero showdown. On the side of the villains, there's the aforementioned Moustached Madman, Slobodan Milosevic (sometimes known as The Cleanser), and of course Mr. Pinochet, mostly famous for donning a pink mask and cape and calling himself "Baby".
In the heroes corner, we had Steve Irwin's famous Death By Stingray (the Stingray is also destined to become a supervillain, if only he survives the climate changes), Robert Altman, and of course the Sex Machine himself (not to be confused with the Sex Automaton). There were others, I'm sure, but this is a blog, not a bloody death almanac.

Also, some Angry-La Awards for 2006: Borat, last years Best Comedy and also Smartest, Most Important Film, and Children of Men, Possibly the Most Realistic Sci-Fi Ever and also last years Smartest, Most Important Film (yes, this is possible, Because I Say So). If you go see them both, you will become Smarter and More Mature. Which may be a Good or a Bad Thing, depending on your preferences and your Goals In Life.

And last, but not least (which may seem like a clichèd figure of speech, but actually is a somewhat retarded pun): Would you, by any chance, want to buy a really, really big egg? Then go here, and bid your heart out. Of course, since it's an auction, the link will only stay active for about five more days. Oh well.

By the Power of Santa Claus

Exams is on. I'm entering two intense weeks of all-out studying. No depression this time around, though, I'm expecting things to go quite smoothly. The only problem is being constantly tired in my eyes and my brain, but hey: Been there before, yeah? And in two short weeks it'll be over.

But enough of that. Soon, the dreaded Season of Psycho Shoppers is upon us, and my guess is you're already trying to find that perfect gift.. well, either that, or you're trying to do a Neo and realize the truth: There is no christmas. Which, as we all know, is wrong. But no matter, because your god and idol (that would be me) is here to save the day (and your soul; but I don't have time for that right now). This year, you will buy Carnivale, the best television series ever, for all your friends and family. It's scientifically proven to be the perfect gift, and the ones you get it for will worship the ground you've trod on forever (and maybe yourself as well, but no promises). Not bad, eh? And if that fact doesn't convince you, allow me to make a few more arguments:
1. It is the best television series ever made.
2. Buying the first two seasons on DVD is the best way to convince HBO to order more seasons, since it was cruelly cancelled last summer. Make no mistake, more seasons of Carnivale would be the best thing since Jesus. Probably even better.
3. You can wear it to parties and it will make you look suave (lie).
4. It's an infinitely better gift than that lame one you were thinking of.
5. You'll go to Heaven when you die (probably true).

In summation, your mantra this christmas will be this: Buy Carnivale. Oh, and did I mention it's the best television series ever made, objectively speaking? Some of you may be thinking, how can it objectively be the best anything? But those who've been paying attention already know the answer. Normal rules apply; if you don't like Carnivale, then what does that make you? A moron. And you don't want to be a moron, now, do you?

I choo-choo-choose you

Um. I thought that the Democrat victory in the US deserved somewhat of a mention. But, now that I've done that, I'm not sure there's much more to say. I mean, yay, I guess.. but what is up with those Americans anyway? Will they make up their fucking mind and make some coherent choices, for once? After all, they did re-elect Dubya. After four fucking years with the bastard, they still didn't throw him down a well, like they should have. But now they want a change? Maybe they're just slow. Maybe they should listen to the rest of the world before making decisions next time. Because they do realize that their choices affect the rest of us as well, right?

Maybe things will change for the slightly better now, and maybe not. But I'm left wondering whether this is a babystep in the right direction, or just another random election. I'm thinking the latter. It might be that I'm just pessimistic, but then again, I'm not paid to be an optimist. Actually, I'm not paid at all, but that's another subject entirely.

Welcome to the rest home

Here I am, one year older and just as useless. Just thought I should drop by, since trying to actually follow up on my promise (y'know, the Norwegian film thing) ended up keeping me from even touching this blog for, let's see, nearly three weeks now. So, not only am I going back on my promise, but I'm also promising not to promise anything here ever again. If you have a complaint to make about this, please wrap it around your penis and stuff it up some dogs bottom.
Anyway, following my Birthday of Ultimate Darkness I've started feeling old again, as I usually do around this time of year. But this time, I want to help others avoid becoming as miserable and cynical as me, so that's why I'm going to dispense some sage advice. Kids, this is from the guy that's old enough to have a beard but still, mysteriously, is unable to grow one:

A silly man once said; "Time is short and flies fast". Well, the man may be silly, but in this he was right (duh). Therefore, it is important to make the most out of the short time we are given. To put it another way, if there's a drug you still haven't done, try it. If you've never killed, raped, or pillaged, do that also. Build bombs and blow stuff up. Laugh at the physically and mentally impaired. Masturbate in public. You know, live a little. And then, when you're done living it up, kill yourself while there's still time. If suicide was good enough for Jesus, it's good enough for you.

Before I go, I also have something for the people who are older than me: Face it, you're old. I mean, you're older than me, and I'm old. Old old old.

Cue evil laugh and rubbing of hands.

Film Industry of Ultimate Darkness

Let us talk about the state of Norwegian cinema. Keep in mind, I have yet to see some of the most critically acclaimed films of the last few years, sure. But I have seen the other most critically acclaimed films, because strangely, they're all most critically acclaimed. Oh my, all you foreigners may be thinking, does that mean that Norway is on a cinematic roll? If you listen to the critics, our film industry just can't go wrong. All our writers and directors are geniouses, they're shitting out gold. Could this really be the case?

Short answer: No. Long answer: Fuck no! Given the amount of pure crap that's getting good reviews, I'm thinking there's two possibilities: Either the critics are actually throwing dice or they're just plain retarded. Which brings me to my next point: Norwegian film critics are retarded. I've seen critically acclaimed Norwegian films which looks like something Uwe Boll pieced together in college. Even our good films aren't very good. But why? What makes Norwegian film so second-rate? What the hell is wrong with these people?

I will try to shed some light on this, but not right now. In my next post (yeah, I know, you've all heard that before. But this time I mean it! Really!) I will try to examine a few Norwegian films that got it wrong, and at least one that got it right. Wait, is that the smell of a bold, new move by me'n'my blog, the sweet smell of ambition?

No it is not. It's just me, fed up and bitching as usual. The thing is, we did get it right a few times. The Excellent Norwegian Film Thing is not just a myth. However, the Norwegian Film Critic With a Shred of Anything Even Remotely Resembling Intelligence, is. And how, then, are we, the audience, supposed to know what films we should see? But anyway, I know this was a shoddy update. I promise to do better next time. See ya later, niblets.

EDIT: Jesus Christ (and my other readers, as well), have a look at this. The Spanish King of Ultimate Darkness (non-official title) shoots drunk bear. Is this a common pasttime in Spain? Getting animals drunk and shooting them? On a completely different note, what colour is the Colgate Total Whitening toothpaste?

You guessed it, it's blue. What a strange world.

Bitches..? Party people? Anyone there?

Saturday was the big day. After one week of heavy planning, everything was ready for our (second) house-warming party (our first one was very fun but included only 2 out of 3 residents, so we promptly gave it another shot). The ox was slaughtered in the traditional halal way, and prepared with the finest spices from Oslo East (noted for both its quality, but mostly its quantity, of exotic tastes) and the freshest herbs of autumnal Norway. We had performed the sacred Wine-Blessing-Dance, and sacrificed a portion of our mead to Santa Claus. We even performed the secret and powerful Masturbation of Christ, just to be sure we had all our divine bases covered.

Well, it would seem that any more than one house-warming party is considered hubris, a deadly insult to the Gods. Because as we sat there, in our holy robes (open in the back), with Ravi Shankar blasting from our speakers, waiting for the guests, guess what happened? Nothing. Noone showed up.

Noone.

Actually, we were down one as well, as the third person living here (the one who missed the first party also) left to watch a movie with a friend. Expect pictures from our party, featuring Mr. Merde (the Incredible Balloon-Bouncing Man) and a pirate balloon, soon.

Something completely different: Apparently, Oslo has gotten some new subway carriages. As I stepped into one of them last night, it felt decidedly like the future. The cold and hostile future, that is (I was also reminded of the time, when waiting for tram no. 17, I suddenly found myself boarding tram X.. very Twilight Zoney). I'll probably get used to it with time, but I'm really not very fond of this sterile, hospital-like trend that seems to be spreading. Everything's supposed to be white, clean and futuristic these days. Call me old-fashioned, but I'll take the post-apocalyptic style any day, even if we have to fuck up the earth to get it.

True Stories from the Apartment of Somewhat Unpleasant Horrors

Strange happenings in the apartment lately. My roommate (who, at least for the moment and for no apparent reason, shall be known as Mr. Kurva), after a miraculous recovery from death (and because of this shall now be known as Mr. Kurva the Magical Death-Defying Miracle Man), brought home a deer some days ago. The deer, named Rudolphe (also called, sometimes, the Magical Mystery Deer of Power) was discovered wandering the streets of Oslo, perhaps prostituting itself, and seemed to enjoy life on the 8th floor. This, of course, is interesting, as scientists normally consider deer quite afraid of heights. He wandered around the apartment, cutely nibbling our socks (which are now full of holes), and generally being very charming. Anyway, since we both are animal lovers, and since Rudolphe was, at times, very annoying (and despite it not being christmas yet), we killed, cooked and ate him (with cabbage and black peppers, obviously). It was delicious.

Murder is quickly becoming the staple of this collective. Luckily, we have the big cellar, so it shouldn't be a problem. Actually, Mr. Kurva mumbled something about "army of zombies", but that might just have been posttraumatic resurrectionconfusion-syndrome, very common in people coming back from the dead. You know, if anything interesting happens, you'll be the first to know about it. Lucky bastards, you. One for the road, word combo of the day:
Candy-coloured cock.

Broken cups and strange dreams

Right, so I had this weird dream last night. There was this group of people, and they were going to beat me up for three days, and then kill me. They were quite open about it, there was no reason for it, and they were not happy about it. The disturbing part: Some of these people were my friends (in case anyone just got worried; not my real-life friends. In fact, they weren't based on real people at all). So I pleaded with them to stop, mostly because I didn't want to be killed (I would guess this is pretty normal), but also because I didn't want to kill them. You see, the only way to get out of this pickle would be to murder them, one by one, over this three-day period. So while they were simply toying with me, beating me around like a crash test dummy, I was constantly trying to
trick them in ways that would end in their deaths. But of course I didn't succeed, because I couldn't kill my friends, and the others were to plain strong for me. The dream cut off after the second day, when I was planning some serious mass murder. It was a cliffhanger ending that I hope will continue tonight; because I really liked this dream. It was like an exciting movie, it had all the important elements: Unmotivated violence, intrigue, emotional dilemmas, and a very real sense of danger and loss.

Does thinking like this make me disturbed and dangerous? Or was this dream simply a parable of the way I think of my life? Of course, there were some additional details.. but I'm keeping those for myself.

Anyway, storytime: My very first taste of coffee came from a small, blue cup, handmade and hand-painted. I later bought this cup, the very same one, and I've had it with me ever since. I've used it for coffee, as a urinal when no other option was available, for sperm when I've been jerking off, and for money during my many begging rounds through Oslo. So you see, I've made memories with this cup, it's comforted me when I've felt lonely, and it's been my only ray of light when I've felt suicidal. And yesterday, it got broken into approxomately 37 pieces. It was broken by my (late) friend, who I lived with until I killed him and stashed his corpse in our surprisingly roomy cellar. And now I have to pay double rent. Oh well. A small price to pay for justice.
The moral of this story, of course, is this: Don't kill anyone unless you're rich.

Sofa King

I woke up this morning (take note, this is not something I do every day) to this news story. For all you people to lazy to click on links, it's about the benefits of tea. Long story short; tea is good for you and you should drink three to four cups a day. The most interesting part, however, is that apparently neither tea nor coffee is dehydrating. You'll still feel like shit if you drink only coffee and no water, but you'll have a "net gain of fluid", the doctor says (except for the shit part, that was my personal opinion). Lastly, it's worth mentioning that the studies were paid for by the UK Tea Council. Make of this what you will. I want to believe.

In other news, I now have a sofa. It is quite big and very very comfy, in fact, it's once been used as a torture device by the Spanish Inquisition. I am hoping it will give me a new roll, since my last roll (which lasted for at least two weeks) ended approximately four days ago. I have been on several rolls this summer, but I've had this dreadful feeling lately that things are returning to normal. Which means no rolls for a long time. But we'll see. The saying goes "live and learn", but my own interpretation goes more like "live, learn, forget, get bored. Have a cup of coffee".

Oh well. Now I'm off to double, maybe triple, my daily intake of caffeine.

Wikiweirdia

Wikipedia is weird.

While having my last cigarette before going to bed, I was kinda bored. I'd been reading about wasps (don't ask) on wikipedia, so I decided to hit the "random article" button.

I was sent here.

As I sat there staring, with a very confused WTF? bouncing around in my head, I got the crazy notion of hitting the button again.

This time I was sent here.

How did I even manage to get by in the years before wikipedia? My mind boggles at the thought.

Edit: I decided to try it one more time. After all, wikipedia can't be made up of nothing but useless information, right? There are, surely, a lot of well-written, informative and interesting articles in their database? Well.. take a look at this. I should think the evidence speaks for itself.

I feel like I could do this all night.

News, fresh like a virgins nipple

This blog is probably not most famous for being a up-to-date comment on the very latest world events. In case you just became worried, rest assured that this will not happen. However, today I bring you all a few fresh news stories that I found oddly fascinating. Firstly, have a look at this report about the Ama, female Japanese pearl divers (average age: 72). I found it interesting how a profession thought better suited to women than men could be close to extinction while a Korean cosmetics company provides free makup for the poor. Daily necessities, indeed. But hey, that's how the world is, now, like before: The most important use of the woman is as pretty collectibles for men. And, of course, a starving woman equals a pretty woman (remember, kids: It's not called "skinny" but "slender").
Lastly, a completely random report: If you go to India, remember to bring Coca-Cola, because you might not get a hold of it there. You see, since soft drinks are bad for you, they've been banned. Beautiful simplicity. Meanwhile, we're upset because of stricter laws against smoking.. Oh, and while the world is rapidly descending into a whirlpool of shit, the most intelligent people on the planet (yes, even smarter than me, although it hurts to admit it) hide in their attics solving math problems.

This concludes our annual news bulletin.

Mama Mia, Let My People Go

The last few weeks there's been a debate in Norwgian media. The debate has been concerning whether author Jostein Gaarder is a anti-semite or not. You see, Gaarder wrote an essay in which he says that Israel shouldn't be killing children, because he thinks it's naughty. Jews all over the world got enraged by this, saying it's ok to kill children as long as they're muslims, and accused the author of anti-semitism and devil worshipping. Gaarder was surprised by this, because he didn't know how much jews love to kill children. Of course, he should've done his homework, like me. So, in the spirit of anti-semitism, here's a quick Angry-La special: Evil Jew Timetable.

-A long time ago: First Jew born. Immediately chokes his mother to death using the umbilical cord.
-Shortly after: Jews exterminate dinosaurs. While laughing.
-2000 B.C: First Jew in space. Does not return, possibly made pact with aliens.
-36 A.D: Jews torture and kill Jesus. They also poked him with a stick.
-1913 A.D: Jews create Richard Nixon in a lab.
-1939 A.D: Jews provoke Adolf Hitler into starting the Second World War. When this proves counter-productive, they invent the atomic bomb.
-1948 A.D: Israel is created, providing a place for all Jews to rub their hands together and laugh maniacally. Here they discover the joys of killing Arab children.
-1967 A.D: Jews occupies Palestine, starts randomly invading neighbouring countries for laughs.
-1975 A.D: Jews create Microsoft, their most evil project yet.
-2006 A.D: Norwegian author Jostein Gaarder writes an essay in which he says he no longer acknowledges the state of Israel. Well, at least the one created in 1967.

Of course, this list is far from complete. Jews have also made the movie Pearl Harbor, created TV Shop, and killed your dog. If you feel I have forgotten something important, feel free to add to the timetable. Just make sure you've got your facts straight. And remember, kids: Anti-semitism is not discrimination, it's common sense.

The Dark Age

A wise and horny man once said; 'tis better to have loved and lost, and so on. Well, he was obviously not talking about the internet. Because I'm here to tell you, munchkins, for a man who've gotten used to the easy world access of the web it's a truly painful experience to have it snatched away. Which, you guessed it, is excactly what happened to me well over a month ago. I did in no way stop living, but my existence was forcefully changed in a way I've yet to fathom completely.

Before you make lots of strange noises with your nose and start sending me hatemail telling me how pathetic I am, consider this: The 'net is full of news. It lets us pay our bills and change our adresses in an instant. It has a far more up-to-date list of jobs and apartments for hire than all the handheld newspapers combined. It makes communication with friends, enemies and fictional cartoon characters far too easy. Besides, it's filled with delighfully random weirdness. Wondering where you've seen that actor before? IMDB. Stuck in a videogame? Gamefaqs. Hungry? Milk and cookies. Feel like reading something with real meaning, something to stimulate several brain functions at once whil keeping you entertained? Angry-La.. well, maybe that last one was a bad example. But my point still stands: Once you've learned the ways of the 'net, it becomes an external limb of sorts. If it's removed, your brain starts to limp. Allow me to provide a short, but embarassing example.
The other day, someone was saying something naughty about a certain country, let us call it Nicerael. The reason, as you all know, was that this country (consisting mostly of fluffy bunnies and evil arabs) had invaded another. Upon hearing this, I was all "what? They've invaded Iran?".

...

And there you have it. To sum up: Internet good, Israel bad. And me lazy (I always wondered what all those newspapers were for). Until next time, kids: Play nice, or else you're likely to be eaten by a Jew.

Buh-bye for now

Did I say juicy update? Funny, I don't remember that.

Anyway, here's the dealio, kids: Uncle Grovdal will be abandoned by the internet. That means random updates, at best, for the unforeseeable future (most likely the next month or so). Let's hope Cogitatum picks up the slack, since he's finally made an update after centuries of silence. Go over there and bother him, children. He deserves it, the bastard, for still having teh internet and everything.

I'm going to miss the 'net. Buh-bye for now, then.

Attention, music lover!

Alright now, this is just peachy: A radio station that plays music you may like, depending on your very own input. Pandora is just a click away, friends.

I'll be back with a more juicy update soon. In the meantime, Sleeper Says: Enjoy.