It's not sure that the title even needs a post, it's pretty selfevident. Everything is always depending on it's perspective and context. The moment you capitulate to lawlessness you've lost your civility. Cursing at someone might make you feel better for the moment, but in the long run you're wearing down on the respect in the world and that is to no benefit to you.
And in all honesty, all those time you got mad in the past, don't they look quite pitiful now? What should make us proud is doing the right thing, and sometimes that means taking a step back and looking at things from a bigger perspective. Yes. It really does. Aren't those moments where you were respectful greater than those where you crumbled to be a barbarian?
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)
God topples from the sky, hell’s fires fade: Exit seraphim and Satan’s men: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you’d return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.)
I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)
Timo Räisänen digitally released Numbers January 26. The album "The anatomy of Timo Räisänen" set to be out March 24. Just so you know. And if you don't care, well maybe then you should.
As always I was watching and listening to something, a trainride through South Africa. Stories on a train. People talking about how it is and how it has been. I'm listening with more and more intrest, lives lead with such hardship and others with ease. Then a man says, I'm not quoting exactly, because I don't have it in exact words "yes, we've been through hardship, for three hundred years. Are we bitter? No we're not bitter. [ ... ] A lot of our people left to go to Australia and Canada, but I want to stay in my country. I love this land". I perked up a little at the 300 years bit. It's no way to look towards a brighter future. Forgiving doesn't mean you say it's ok, it just means that you're willing to let go and accept what you have now, and what things are now.
Then I got to thinking about where I'm at now, and what I know about my family and country from 300 years ago, and the answer is absolutley nothing. Yes, I know about the Swedish history and the fact that my relatives were more than likely farmers. Can I relate to their problems of harvests and our wars carried out in that time? No, I can honestly say I can't. It has nothing to do with me, sitting here, typing this in 2010. Of course I realize that without them I wouldn't be here. Had they not worked hard and had children I would never have been born, but that's more from an evolutionary standpoint.
Later in the show there was a white man from Zimbabwe whose farm had been taken, he was travelling to visit friends and family in Johannesburg. He said, something down the lines of "My father worked his whole life on that farm. He paid every cent back. He always took care of his African workers. [ ... ] one day we get a letter in the mail saying we have three months to leave the farm, as we're white and we've stolen the land, so we had no choice but to leave our home. The farm my father paid for. He never skipped on taxes. It just shows a ploy to pay the wrong people and get nothing in return but his conscience is clear, he bought the farm." He also wished to stay in his country, hoping things would work themselves out somehow.
What their stories really show is that in order for there to be a winner there has to be a loser. If someone gains something another sees it slip away. What is right and fair in this? I honestly don't know. Behind all these bigger issues there are individuals that might not care so much about politics and what's fair in a 500 year perspective. And how could they? They're living here and now. If something is done to me now, do I want payback for myself centuries after I'm dead? How will that benefit me? It won't, it would however cause complications for generations to follow. Who will be the first one to say "let's leave it all in the past"? The trauma is closer for the man from Zimbabwe, he personally experianced having his home taken away. His personal trauma doesn't compensate for centuries of oppression. Please misunderstand me correctly!
But the score will never be settled, the grudges will be shifted back and forth. The Zimbabwe man will tell his children about what he believed to been wrongly done, just like the other man speaks of 300 years of hardship, even though they didn't all involve him, some of them surely, but noone can live for 300 years. We do carry the troubles of the parent generation with us, so we all have to decide, for ourselves, if we will let what our parents did, or what was done to our parents effect how we treat others.
Do we let the past define us, or the future we can create together by simply forgiving and moving on, learning from the mistakes and evolve into more understanding and openminded people? To me the answer to that is evident, but then again, I'm about as Swedish as they come, I've never experianced oppression in any other context than being a woman in a man's world, I've never seen my nation at war, no revolution, no anarchy. So yeah, maybe it's easy for me to say forgive and let go.
jag vaknade en morgon, från en dröm jag hade jag drömde att jag kunde sjunga, men det kan jag inte jag gick ut en kväll, för att känna lukten av våren för jag trodde att jag kunde känna igen, men det kan jag inte universum är ett monster, men det har sparat dig och mig och jag göra vad som helst för att få ditt liv att verka bättre bättre.. bättre.. ibland är en lögn det finaste man har
(Only idiots rush in
I woke up one morning, from I dream I had I dreamed I could sing, but I can't I went out one evening, to feel the scent of spring because I thought I could feel again, but I can't The universe is a monster, but it saved you and me and I'd do anything to make your life seem better better better Sometimes a lie is the most wonderful thing)
I turned on the TV to watch some random crap to waste some time with and the regular programming had been replaced with a disaster gala to raise money for Haiti. We've all been reading and hearing about it for the last almost couple of weeks. The horror is just too vast to grasp. Reporters stumbling on words and children disappearing from hospitals. The stench of death and the ultimate loss of a dignified life. The breakdown of civilization and a whiff of anarchy. An experiment of what happens when there's nothing to lose and all to gain.
For me the whole event and scenario raises other questions circulating around the concept of humanity. About 9 months or so ago I wrote about how the world is so divided and how a disaster would pull us together, how we'd all unite in misery against a common enemy. Have I gotten my wish? If so, it didn't turn out the way I wanted it. Yes, we all agree it's a horrible thing, yet we quarrel about which country needs to do what. In my opinion it's always the closest country that has the means to help that should pull the biggest load. If something happened in Finland, Denmark or Norway I'd go myself even though my help'd be utterly useless. But that's besides the point and it's leading me away from the actual one. What does it matter who does what? What does it matter about country budgets where a whole nation has been knocked down? Are we seriously that selfish? Is there no humanity left in the world on a national level. The people donate money and the governments send in armies. There is no chance of profit in disaster relief! Or maybe there is, what would I know. So yes, maybe humanity is lost after all, the endless shampoo commericals roll on, papers are printed, people go on dates, coffee pots bubble on, every day life is only disrupted by the plea for help when we turn our heads to face it.
Nature isn't our enemy even though it does us harm we wouldn't be able to live without it. We can't act suprised when something happens. It does happen. It hasn't been that long since the tsunami, and there was a similar dilemma then, who's responsible, who should do what? Is every government responsible for bringing their nationals home from a disaster area? Can we expect the help from our native land while we're on holiday? To me the answer is yes, but surely that wasn't as natural as I had assumed. Where does that leave us, when there's nowhere to turn, noone to call upon in times of need? You can witness this at a very basic level as well when the first snow falls, and the ice covers the asphalt. Suprise and accidents. We can't beat nature, all we can do is find ways to deal with the hand it deals us, and as human beings we should come together and make the best of it.
I won't tell you to donate your entire salary to help Haiti. I haven't. At the same time as I believe that we should help each other out I also believe in helping yourself. It has to do with respect. If you ask others for help in a situation you more than likely could handle for yourself you're pulling energy from others. It can be hard to tell when it gets to the moment where you have no choice but to ask for help. For someone that has lost everything it shouldn't be a matter of asking for help, it should be a matter of getting a chance to build your life back up again, without even having to ask. That's what humanity is. I wish the world had more of it. Human made disasters, are pitiful excuses for prehistoric behaviour while nature created disasters are a chance for us to show how far we've come.
Some random things I want. In no particular order. Most of the things I want are excluded. I could really go for a basket of kittens at the moment though. God. How could anyone not want a basket of kittens?
Stormy weather
Pearl earrings Pretty flowers
Basket of kittens!
Nifty fridge
Self cleaning litterbox
More books. As usual. Pointless to specify.
A dress.
Another dress.
A shoe. Though I'd probably need two.
Tree necklace.
The hat, not the model.
Nifty gloves to match the nifty fridge.
I had a picture of a panda umbrella here, but I accidently hit delete and now I'm too lazy to find it again.
The word "natural" has been on my mind a lot. What is natural? Is anything natural, or is everything natural. We can't create anything from nothing at all, so in that sense everything is natural. All the chemicals must have come from something, so they must therefore to some extent be natural.
Same with all those shameful acts. If we can do it, it must be natural. Yeah. I don't even know how to argue this point because it just feels so natural to me.
I read the most marvellous nonarticle on Aftonbladet's site today. Apperantly men grow up slower than women. Boys become men at the age of 27, and aren't mature until they're 29. There was also a poll conducted of how you can tell when someone's an adult. The options were "when you reach a certain age", "when you start working", "when you become a parent", "when you settle down with a partner", "when you move out of your parents'" and "some people never grow up". Also, according this article men still continue to drink themselves senseless and moon people after the age of 29. Women stop showing off their breasts at 23, but still remain obnoxious until the age 25, and stop swearing at the age of 26. Of course the comment field was full of explainations as to why this is, along with mentally stunted men bragging about how much they enjoy being assholes.
I say better to show your ass than being an ass. According to the study the following makes you an adult: stop swearing, only drink moderatly, only wear a reasonable amount of make up, stop mooning and boobflashing, have kids, and get this, listen to documentaries on the radio.
I say being an adult really only boils down to two things. Taking responsibility for yourself and those you care for and treat others with respect. How you respectfully moon someone I don't know, but maybe it's about finding the right arena for it. Don't moon the kindergarten class when you pick your child up, but moon your friends on a night out, or something. I really don't know. The criteria of "having children" is a bit silly. Isn't it better if you're adult before you have children? How well you can look after yourself in order to look after others. I'd like to think my cats are fairly well looked after. Does giving them food before I eat make me an adult? Does getting hours of entertainment out of playing with them make me immature? Is it possible to grow up and still remain a child at heart?
I think what the nonarticle was really trying to say is that you have to stop playing, you have to start enjoying boring things, because what could be more boring than a radio documentary? I can think of plenty of things. Some of those documentaries are pretty interesting! Perhaps it's simply about finding a balance between "fun stuff", and "things I have to do to be able to do the fun stuff". It's when things get out of hand that it's immature, when you don't take responsibility for your actions. Or perhaps being an adult means you get tired of acting like a moron, and when you know the the consequences for your actions might be a bigger chore than biting your tounge.
However, I do believe some people never grow up. I know a 42 year old that still refers to herself as a "girl". I'm trying to stop doing so in reference to myself, just like I stopped wearing braids in public when I turned 21. My games are more sophisticated now than when I was 6, and my daydreams about other things, but that doesn't mean I enjoy them any less or plan to stop. And oh yeah, I still swear.
I was going to post something positive, something happy, something snappy, something smart, but then I accidently turned the volume up on my headphones too fast, startling me just a bit too much, but fear not, I will not post about life, I will not post about death. Not about gaining or losing, I will simply post something that I think of.
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My world is fairly small, in a physical way. I prefer to keep it like that. There's enough going on up here, as it is, she said pointing to her own forehead. But when you really think about it, everyone's world is pretty small. Yes, I know I shouldn't use generalizations, but surely, you remember high school and the idea of that it was a controlable universe. Nothing is controlable. It's hardly even a matter of control, it's a matter of illusion and tricks.
When your hair is laying the way you want it, are you controling or managing it? If you were truly in control it'd go back into that shape next time you wash it and let it airdry. Did your pet sit down before being served dinner? It did because it does the same thing to you, it knows that sitting down at the appropiate time will make you put the food down. Who's the controlled one?
As long as there's no physical violence or force involved we can't actually control anything at all. It's a matter of who wants it more, and even then the one being controlled can remain being in control when it doesn't want to make hard decisions, ever been told "I don't know, you decide"?
When it comes to minds there is no real control. There's no way of telling how others, or yourself for that matter, will react to a given situation or scenario. So what's better is to just manage. Noone will do as I say unless I make it the more favourable option. Being able to offer something in return.
What do Mozart, Beethoven, Emmanuel Swedenborg and Goya all have in common? Apart from being dead, their skulls have been sold, traded and kept. A skull to remember mortality. A full skeleton is closer to a jestering creature, compared to the staring of hollow empty eyes.
In art in general the skull is there to remind us, the world's most famous skull, featured in Hamlet. Yes, I'm aware of the fact that I've sort of seemed like the most morbid person in northern Europe lately, but I promise it's not about that. We see things in oppposite pairs. Love-hate, light-dark, night-day, dry-wet, hot-cold and here - life and death. How can we see life without seeing death, and what symbol, beyond all other showcases death? The skull, naturally.
So I say, when Hamlet holds the skull of Yorick in his hand, he's actually holding life and speaking to the final frontier of it. Hamlet is all about death as it is. No need to poke fun, but the end isn't really that exciting, after death there is no life, it leaves no room to imagine what will come next. Something I personally admire in a text, how it manages to attach itself to my mind and continue evolving into something completely different.
Back to death. It is fair. We will all die, and in death we will all be disgusting, we'll all decay, fade to dust, feed the worms, whatever. There is a comfort in that, opposites again, the cliché of "Life isn't fair", must by these standards mean that death is. And it will happen to all of us, might as well get used to the idea.
They kind of go together though, don't they? Memento mori, carpe diem.
No this post isn't about Darin. No matter how morbid he makes me feel. It's about the DNA testing of seven people buried in Riddharholmskyrkan. The testing is to establish their relation to Birger Jarl. He's been dead for close to 800 years, but appearantly being related to him is so important that ... Nevermind, let me unwind. He's the father of Magnus Ladulås so I guess that's why it matters. Why it matters I don't know really. Must we be opening graves up? I mean it obviously takes very long to be buried in Sweden, and then we have to be dug up again because of those exceptional things we did. How do you feel about that Moder Svea?
They're also going to open Karl XII's sarcophagus to examine the bullet that killed him. So much for the honor of Sweden's warrior king. Do they say "rest in peace" because the body is still there, in the ground somewhere to help rest the minds of those who still have questions about the past?
I don't have that much to do to occupy my time with right this second, so I'll spread the gospel of Swedish music. Yet again.
Don't worry, the translation is further down, just scroll, that is if you prefer the English translation to the Swedish original. How are you doing on learning Swedish, by the way?
På det fyrastjärniga hotellbadrummet Vätternstrand i bibelbältet I det skoningslösa lysrörsljuset kom beslutet om slutet för dig och mig
Det smakar plast, rök och sprit i din mun När du pratar verkar du jättedum, och du är alldeles för ung Men det får duga i natt för båda vet att Det här betyder ingenting
Kicken, var är den? Kicken, vart tog den vägen?
Hela livet var ett disco, men hur kunde det bli så svårt? Hela livet var ett disco, men hur kunde det bli så svårt?
Fastnar med hjulen i spårvagnsspåren Framför teven, slickar såren Norrköping är drogavvänjning Nej, gud, jag har inte blivit märkvärdig, inte alls Men farten i mig är värre nu, hjärnan behöver mer för å ha kul Dricker te och pratar högt på finska Jekka är smart och fattar det mesta, så jag testar, hörredu
Kicken, var är den? Kicken, vart tog den vägen?
Hela livet var ett disco, men hur kunde det bli så svårt? Hela livet var ett disco, men hur kunde det bli så svårt?
Ryggen mot väggen, tittar på sista dansen På vägen hem lovar jag mig själv igen att nästa vecka bjuder jag upp nån, vem som helst!
Hela livet var ett disco, men hur kunde det bli så svårt?
The whole life was a disco
At the four-star hotel bathroom Vätterstranden in the bible belt In the merciless fluorescent light the decision was made for the end of you and me
Your mouth tastes like plastic, smoke and alcohol When you speak you seem really stupid, and you are too young But it'll do for tonight, both of us know that This means nothing
The kick, where is it? The kick, where did it go?
Whole life was a disco, when did it become so complicated? Whole life was a disco, when did it become so complicated?
The wheels of the tram sticking in the tracks In front of the television, licking wounds Norrköping is drug detoxification No, god, I have not been remarkable, not at all But the speed of me is worse now, the brain needing more of the fun Drinking tea and speaking loudly in Finnish Jekka is smart and gets most things, so I try, you see.
The kick, where is it? The kick, where did it go?
Whole life was a disco, when did it get so complicated? Whole life was a disco, when did it get so complicated?
Back to the wall, watching the last dance On the way home, I promise myself once more that next week, I'll ask someone to dance, anyone!
Whole life was a disco, but how could it be so hard
Not that I completely relate to these lyrics. Kind of fun I suppose, how we get tangled in the nets of our own lives. It's worth a thought, or a song or two.
On my usual hunt for something to read I came across this, an article about the time passing between death and the funeral. I can honestly say it's not something I think about daily. Apperantly, in Sweden, the average time is 20.2 days. Both Norway and Denmark have an 8 day limit. How the compliance in relation to this is, I don't know. But in time of grief one day can seem long enough and the funeral is a way to say goodbye. It's not for the dead but for the living.
My intention is not to sound morbid at all, I just found it fascinating. After some googling about how it is in the US it's my understanding that it's also about a week. So why is Sweden so slow? Does this have something to do with us being so slow in general? Waiting for three months to see a specialist at the hospital, 9 months for your decision from Migrationsverket, a month to find out how you did on your exam. All wheels turn so slowly here, and it can be utterly frustrating.
The suggestion of making a law on how long one has to wait to be put in the ground is out on remittance from the government to effected instances. God only knows how long it'll take for a decision to actually be made in the matter. My guess is three years.
Sweden is a lot about rules as well, there's usually only one way to go about things. Handy in one way, frustrating in another. For instance you can't apply directly to a college, you have to do it through the Department of higher education. It's fair, everyone's judged equally, on your previous grades, and you don't get extra credit for being the child of the professor. Trouble is that there are no shortcuts, and we become mainstreamed and it's easy to fall off the wagon on the way to success. We're all expected to go in the same direction and have the same ideals. There's no room to shake around and do it your way. There's only one place to buy alcohol, and very few movie theatres that aren't connected to SF. Are all Swedes exactly the same?
I'm sure you already know the answer to that is no. We're all just as different as any other nationality is, we just appriciate our vacation time, coffee breaks and klämdagar. This is however not reflected in the face of Moder Svea. To her we're all the same.
It goes nicely with the idea of every single person's worth. We're all worth the same no matter who you are, what you've done, didn't do or cried about in the park. Sometimes I just wish that we could see the greatness in the individual. But Jante law does not permit such disgusting behaviour, so here we are waiting to be buried because by golly, one musn't think your death is important enough to make someone change their schedual.
Don't know why, but YouTube is absolutley littered with covers of this song. Yes, it's a good song but that doesn't mean it should take me 30 mins of going through endless pages of covers to find it. So I decided to post it in all the corners of the Internet I can, hopefully that'll ease the process for someone else. You're welcome. Belle and Sebastian - Piazza, New York Catcher.
Månens mast har murknat och seglet skrynklas. Måsen svävar druncken bort äver vattnet. Bryggans tunga fyrkant är kolnad. Snåren dignar i mörkret
Ut på trappan. Gryningen slår och slår i havets gråsetensgrindar och solen sprakar nära världen. Halvkvävda sommargudar famlar i sjörök.
(Evening - morning
Moon - its mast is rotten, its sail is shriveled. Seagull, drunk and soaring away on currents Jetty - charrel rectangular mass. The thickets founder in darkness.
Out on doorstep. Morning is beating, beats on oceans' granite gateways and sun is sparkling near the world. Half smothered, the gods of summer fumble in seamist
Translated by Robin Fulton)
In all honesty, that translation does not capture the original at all.
Plötsligt möter vandraren här den gamla jätteeken, lik en förstenad älg med milsvid krona framför septemberhavets svartgröna fästning
Nordlig storm. Det är den tid när rönnbärsklasar mogna. Vaken i mörkret hör man stjärnbilderna stampa i sina spiltor högt över trädet
(Storm Here the walker suddenly meets the giant oaktree, like a petrified elk whose crown is furlongs wide before the September ocean's murky green fortress
Northern storm. The season when rowanberry clusters swell. Awake in the dakrness, listen: constellations stamping inside their stalls, high over the treetops
Translated by Robin Fulton)
In all honesty, that translation does not capture the original at all.
So I was trying to decide what to do with my hair. I somehow manage to always end up with the same haircut, in variations. below my shoulders, a little layered and some kind of brown. That is of the last 10 years or so. And it's getting to feel awfully uninspired. I know I have alright hair. It's naturally curly, but I straighten it to feel good about it. Straight hair is just more socially acceptable in my world.
Question is though, why do I want to change? Why do we always think we want something different than what we have. A constant motion towards a goal we can't quite picture. We can be like stubborn little children proclaiming that "I don't wanna" but things will change, with our without our help. Moments can't be frozen and emotions aren't always as predictable as we think. Lets do an example. In 3rd grade a friend of mine and I had some sort of pocket horses, really small that we used to play with. It was fun. I enjoyed doing it. The habit of doing so three times a day is however broken. I have no idea what happened to my horses, they probably fell off the road somewhere down memory lane along with a lot of other things. But the memory is still there. Now, how does this illustrate my point? I was quite happy when I played with her and those toys, but I had to change, I outgrew it whether or not I liked it. I lost touch with her even though she was my best friend for years. I don't feel about her the way I did when I was a child, nor would I enjoy playing that game in the same way if I was to meet her and attempt it again. The world has shifted too many times since then for those moments to come back. All I can do is bottle that emotion and try to feel like that again. But can I? Really? Part of being that child is to not see the bigger picture and not worry about what's to come but to only play with those horses in the grass outside a brick building.
Change happened, it's not something I decided on. What makes us happy also changes over time, as does our ability to know what happiness is. Perhaps happiness isn't a state of mind, only an ability to notice the good things and not being blindsided by all the other issues that bring us down, and hoping that those brief moments of sheer happiness aren't too far apart. Yes I have now solved the mystery of happiness.
Think about time like a piece of string with tiny knots. Each knot is a moment of happiness, if the string has lots of knots it brings texture and you don't lose intrest in following the string. That is if they happen occationally, if they happen constantly you'll need an even bigger knot to notice them. We need those flatlines inbetween to notice the knots, which, yes, are being used here to mean happiness. Therefore happiness can't be a constant state, it's those smaller parts that makes us look back and think "wow, that was pretty amazing", like playing with some pocket horses in the grass.
Change means to leave things behind and move on to find new moments to remember. And now I also remember why I have this haircut. I can't decide what else to do with, and it will change over time as well, no matter what I decide to do with it, it'll turn grey and perhaps it'll get thinner. I can live with that as long as I get to decide for myself which way it's cut.
One might think that the stress of seminars, presentations, exams and finals are the biggest issues while being a student at a university. I beg to differ, the real test is to reactivate your migrated student account, find your classes in a list, find the literature list and in which hall registration is. If you manage to do that without your bloodpressure exploding, or head imploding or your soul becoming a pittoresque illusion of lollipops and candydrops fallen in a pool of stinging jellyfish you're pretty much ready for the carpooling lane on a busy highway. They don't really need applications do they? Just a general link where you have to navigate a website bigger than the Chinese black market for counterfeit sportsgoods. Those who actually manage to show up for the registration in the right room, on the right day, at the right time, with the right books and with your (semi)sanity intact should get automatic As.
Sometimes it can be hard to see just how much we love something because of the details we don't. Naturally I saw it as my duty to sort this out for you, showing how the end result you love might be worth the trouble. Well, it's not even an end result, it just is, the rest is nothing.
Cats, not because they shed, poop or whine, but because they're lovable creatures Chocolate, not because it's fattening and kind of bad for you, but because it's delicious and kind of bad for you. Naps, not because they're really a waste of time, but because they bring you more vivid dreams as you get less deep sleep and you remember your dreams better. Cartoons, not because they're childish and colourful, alright it' is because they're childish and colourful. A clean house, not because it means you have to clean, but because you deserve to live in a castle. Sappy songs, not because they make you cry, but because they remind you that it's possible to feel and that other people feel too. Failing, not because it makes you feel like a loser, but because it gives you a chance to find another way.
That last bit didn't belong, really, but I just needed to tell myself that failing isn't really failing, it just means that you found a way that didn't work.
This is the most horrible shoe I have ever seen. For several reasons. I don't understand the whole peeptoe boot thing, yet I should say, I might catch on later. It just seems strange to me, if your ankles are really cold while you're wearing sandals, why not put on some pants? Instead of covering it up with boots I mean. I don't know about you, but it doesn't happen to me that often that I think "Oh my my toes are so hot and my calves are oh so cold". Again, I apologize if that's just me.
Then, I also hate animal prints. No offense to anyone, but animal prints just scream tacky and tasteless. Now if that's the look you're going for, by all means, do wear these shoes. Or anything else that makes me want to barf, like leopard print or tiger print. Though I will confess to one of my fashion sins here; I did at one point have a pair of boots with cowprint. I was trying to make fun of the whole animal print style but as usual noone understood my irony and it ended by a series of compliments from 70 year old women with faux furs. That is another thing I detest. Fur. Don't wear it. Poor animals.
The third bit is the too many colours thing. It's got pink, it's got silver, it's got black and it's got white. Too much. It looks like the zebra print was taken at random. Like the designer thought "hm, what fabric do I have left over from that Halloween party? Oh lookie! Zebra! Great! I'll glue it to these horrid sandals! That's bound to sell!" Needless to say it just produced something that gets mocked in my blog. Good job designer!
Moving on to the shape of the heel. The height of the heel. Ugh. Typical girl dress up style for when you're not sure if you can pull it off, and if you decide to wear that height heels. Yeah, you're right, you shouldn't wear heels. Don't be ashamed of your height! Stretch! Be proud! Be proud enough to not wear a heel like that. Thank you.
Lastly, the straps. They're ugly. Plain and simple.
Now, I'd really love to know who buys these shoes. I'm looking forward to seeing someone walk down the street with them. I'm actually concidering buying them, but knowing how that other of my sarcastic fashionevents went, I don't think it'd be a good idea...
Apart from porn, news, social arenas spam the Internet is really about cute. Cute and humor. Why is that? Is it that the world has grown so cold and harsh that we need the escape of baby animals to cling to our humanity? We read about a war or two, then surf right on to bunnies, kittens and puppies to even the score a bit.
I really think it's so. The more accessible the Internet becomes the more horrors we're exposed to, just like TV brought images of war and terrors into our livingrooms we now are expected to know more about them via the Internet, analyse them and understand them, so the need for something to weigh up for it is greater. The whole yin and yang idea.
I don't mind. I love cute. I just wish we didn't have any nightmares to compensate for.
Peel off my skin and tell me jokes I don't understand. I promise I'll laugh anyway, my nerves will be explosed and you can tickle my funny bone with gusts of wind.
"The big journey has begun. Everyone's hoping that they're on the way towards a heaven, but it's still too frightning to follow the thought to its end..."
For this I have to pick a perspective, which will prove to bigger task than it should be, so I'll start in the end where I came to think about it today, the books by Vilhelm Moberg. Emigrants,Settlers and Onto a good land, following a Swedish family, and some of their friends on their way from Sweden to their new home in the US, as part of the huge emigration wave in the 1800s. The family is in no way typical for the actual Swedes that left, yet the books have become somewhat of a representation of how it actually was. What Moberg was really trying to do was to capture the thought process which led to such a decision. But, it doesn't really matter what he was trying to do, as the book series took on a life of it's own a long time ago.
This is entertainingly similar to what the US has done to the old world. European history frozen in time to fit into the celebration of heritage. Coming across Americans and introducing myself as a Swede I often get the happy response of "I'm Swedish too!". Rarely is that the case however. As it turns out it's usually the greatgreatgrandfather. I'm sorry, but that doesn't make you a Swede. No offense, but it makes you an American with rather diluted Swedish heritage.
It confuses me a bit. Aren't Americans supposed to be proud over their country? Or is it the idea that their proud over, the fact that it had to be an active choice to move (yes, I know this is coming off as a bit racist as I'm talking about Americans as all being of European heritage. Go back and read what I said about having to chose perspective, again. Thank you for your cooperation.) Clinging to this history, celebrating the land of the forfathers. Lovely. But that has nothing to do with how Europe in general and Sweden in particular is, today. Look at this for instance http://www.lindstrom.mn.org/ It gives an unnerving feeling on being on the border of fact and fiction. Lindstrom is set where Moberg's emigrants went. They have a statue of Karl-Oskar and Kristina, and their bakery sells the original Swedish doughnut. Whatever that is, I couldn't tell you. But it is in fact typical, incoroprating something of the new land with something of the old. The Sweden that Lindstrom is trying to represent simply doesn't exist anymore. It's the Sweden of the late 1800s. The langugage has changed, the food has changed, the build up of society has changed.
And this is where I mean that (yes, I know only some) American get their "We're the most modern country in the world" attitude. As soon as we reduce the rest of the world to something it has been, rather than taking the time and effort and looking at what it has become and where it's heading as it asks of you to lift your eyes beyond your own back yard. In Sweden we have Hembygdsmuseum, emigrantmuseum, and so on and so forth, representing the times that fled, while Lindstrom has this as a sole representation of what has now become a modern nation.
The idea of relatives leaving their countries far, far away to come to a better place in Amerrikat isn't applicable anymore. It might have been for a short period of time. I'm not placing any values on which country is the best, but I surely prefer my own.
An anecdote; there's an emigration museum in Växjö corresponding to the immigration museum on the Swedish street in Chicago. I've been to both. I also visited the store, next to the museum, and never before had I been that happy to see Ballerina cookies and Kalles kaviar.
That is more true as to what Sweden is today, instead of pickled herring, aprons, clogs, milking cows and going to church. We go visit other countries, but we're generally quite happy to come back home. The vast majority of Swedes live in towns and cities, not on small barren farms. Now. Not then. I feel honored that the people of Lindstrom are so proud over their heritage, and I'm glad that I don't live in Sweden of 1871, but 2010. The US has changed too, it'd be naive to think that The Old World has remained the same.
We do all kinds of things to be entertaining for our friends. But sometimes it's better to just accept that they'll either like us or they won't. Not saying you should act like a douche, just value yourself more than to be reduced to a gag joke and the constant clown. True friends will like you even if you're exploring the bottom of the deep blue sea.
Being human is nothing other than accepting your place in society and understanding the historical events that led us to the place where we are now. Always take on the bigger perspective, no matter your fancy. Applying this to literature, music, society and people makes life a little bit easier to understand. That is, if you understand that there's nothing to understand but your own humanity at all.
It's not sure that the title even needs a post, it's pretty selfevident. Everything is always depending on it's perspective and context. The moment you capitulate to lawlessness you've lost your civility. Cursing at someone might make you feel better for the moment, but in the long run you're wearing down on the respect in the world and that is to no benefit to you.
