February 27, 2005

Casa Ambiente, lennard writes today af his blog , and it reminds me of a conversation I had with him over the phone only some weeks ago.
Lennard had been helping me doing the graphic styling of a magazine I and a few others tried to launch, called GNOM. It was spring 1994, the heydays of the Copenhagen ravescene. In an attempt to rise money for issue number two, we rented an old factory in a old abonded industrial area of the harbour, now the home of a gigantic shoppingmall and superexclusive aprtment.
It wasn’t so much the party as the aftermath. The party was super liveperformances, great dj`s, art and videoinstallations, drugs, girls, beers, and cool drinks and apparently cool people, it was however as I remember it one the last real raves I attended.
The night whipped up violence, cops, and I had to race out to a 24-7 dentist to have a fucked up tooth pulled out, and when it ended around five in the morning with the sunset. There was tons of bills to pay, and I in a feeble attempt to keep my head hadn’t been doing drugs or drinking. And a good thing it was. Half an hour after the party ended the owner of the factory, stood fresh and newly shaved and wanted his pay. Which he had, but it was also at that moment that I discovered, that at least 7000 kroner was missing from the register. Money that had been there just hours ago. It was impossible to get any straight answers and my only hope to pay just a small part of the bills was to fill the rental cars with the cases of empty bottles, and go from supermarket to supermarket to cash in the refund which wasn’t a lot, but enough though to keep certain people of my back. So after having cruised Copenhagen from 6 in the morning till about one in the afternoon taking back soundequipment, lights, decks and what not, I finally came back to the factory with an empty truck, totally flatlined.
People lay scattered allover asleep in the beaming sun. One guy, had fallen asleep with his hand in a butter-packet, mumbling “mmm, pussy”, having been laid for the first time in months.
In the center of the yard though, sat the one I was very suspicious about having ripped the money with his score of the night, the two of them dressed up top to toe in technogear and e-grilled beyond belief. What should have been his helping out the party, was now just, nothing.
I approached them with a not very satisfied look at my face, and they met me with this comment:”Hey man, look at us, aren’t we just like the most beautiful people in the world…?”

Dinner at Scotts after the fouth tennismatch this week, a stand off at 2 won games each:
a passionate presentation of the bluegrass genre, the music, the harmonies, the broken hearted low down appalachian stories, the music aint as white as it sounds. The pictures to match the moment, could be the works of american regionalist painter Thomas Hart Benton (among his students were for exampel Jackson Pollock..).

benton bio

February 26, 2005

WHY THIS secondrate poet DOENST LOVE BIG BUSINESS part 39:

Having been pretty well and solely focused mostly on the doings and do-no good of big business in El Mundo Americana®, it is with a mixture of joy – but no surprise – that I turn to the likes of my dear breeding ground, Denmark.
This week have been filled with news about Mærsk and their close contact to US Army and a major turnover they have achieved by shipping arms to Iraq. So the Operahouse that popped out of nowhere in Copenhagen as a “handover to the danish people” founded by Mærsk McKinnney himself, could say to have been build by the affluence of war-trafficiking.
Moreover Mærsk have strong ties to Nepal, which was not more than a month ago taken over in a coup de etate by the King Gyenendra of Nepal .

And Danish Crown: the proud danish PØLSEFABRIK have on german tv channel ZDF been disclosed as slavelaborers on their plant in Northgermany thus mirroring the problem of invisibility of global economy.

Enjoy your meal and let the kings and queens and people of Denmark forever stare at the cultural tombstone build by Iraqi bloodmoney.

Moralistic? You bet. So fuck you.

one of many:

February 24, 2005

carls one year birthday...silence on the blog but the afterparty you dont wanna miss...

February 23, 2005

nacked after a all in all five hour drive to the loading and unloading passenger zone at San Francisco International airport yesterday to bit farewell to some friends, I am tired, a-political and working on my tan in the first beams of spring, therfore only this samll realitycheck:

Neighbour get your junk off the porch
I am cleaning

because I am no longer clean
about this time I would normally have been heading home
but home diminish
I stay with the dirt and the smells
Should the dirt turn red and the smell an odeur

Where uncertainty is safe
Steps up and around
All things in a tempting blur
The place to be
Is where I am at
60 push ups a day
some tennis to match the competitiveness and survival in the mace
months ahead and months away
to become 200 or more
once I have cleaned the floor

February 22, 2005

The Chinese new year parade celebrating the entry to the year of the rooster was on its second hour when it started getting really boring. Though a genuine ethnic celebration, not more ethnic, than most banners, parade vehicles and contraptions, uniforms, bandstands and so forth was sponsored by Ford, Wells Fargo and what not: and me wondering and maybe a little surprised by my prejudice: but of course its sponsored, and why shouldn’t it be? My point is that the sponsors were as visible as that of the Chinese culture, so who is celebrating what?
Anyhow, with or without the sponsors, it would still have been boring two hours into the parade, the rain, my worn out feet, and my general impatience. I pulled back to seek shelter in a huge doorway to have a smoke away from the judgemental American eye. Bought a coffee from a street vendor lit up the smoke and relaxed. The high rise buildings on Market Street where the parade began are a peculiar mixture of new and old, and as I was contemplating on that, I noticed the a lot of people in the McKenno`s building across from me, were standing in their offices looking at the parade. Some stood alone, some in a crowd. From the third floor and up till where I couldnt keep the count straight, the lit up windows and the people created a pattern of life in confinement and I instantly associated to the life and curriculae vitae of a certain Patrick Bateman.
A couple in a window on the fouth floor was making out. From conversation that led to kisses, I saw the guy positioning himself behind the girl, but not until the girl bend over and her face was against the window did I figure out that he was fucking her. It seemed though to be over in a flash. But then she went down on him, blew him for about fifteen seconds and they were at it again, doggie-style. Now both her hands and face was against the window, I could see steam around her face as the guy pulled out a camera and started taking shots of her and the parade.
It ended, like sex often does, with a kiss and a hug and she left the office. He stayed at the window, peeled an orange, ate it and disappeared.

WHY THIS secondrate poet DOESNT LOVE BIG BUSSINESS…part 38:

Walking up backwards the incredible steep Filbert Street on Telegraph Hill to the beautiful full scenic and panoramic view from Coit Tower of beautiful San Francisco, the bay, the bridges, the correctional facilities Alcatraz and Sing Sing, and then walking down almost skiing the streets same slippery from rain, through little Italy, North Beach, Chinatown, Downtown, we were very hungry at Union Square, especially the kids crying out for sugar and fat: energy! So we bend the principles and headed for the nearest Burger King, and ordered 4 Western Angus Steak Burgers – a burger conceptualised accordingly to the NBC TV show “The Apprentice” featuring Donald Trump taking on the task of hiring and firing more hopeful fame-addicts.

(The show will air soon in Denmark led by finance wizkid and convicted citizen and prime consumer® Klaus Riskkær Pedersen…)

The burger – the western angus steak burger – is being heavyli campaigned: Posters, billboards, tv-spots and product-placement. Russ Klein, chief marketing officer of Burger King, which is based in Miami and owned by a consortium led by the Texas Pacific group, says of the campaign:

”Commercializing in almost 8000 restaurants was attractive to us from the outset, and ofcourse a paste of public space. Our first reaction was that it would be a opportunity to create a 360 degree event, as tv viewers see this unfold overnight from their living rooms to a Burger King near them.”

Other brands are sponsoring the third season of “The Apprentice” among those Dove Body Wash, Sony Playstation, Verizon Wireless and Visa, each company paying an estimated 2,5 million dollars to be incorporated into the plot lines of each episode and to become the focus of the task the competing teams must perform to win the weekly challenge. These amounts spent compare with an estimated one million dollar for each of the second-seasoned sponsors such as: Levi`s, PepsiCo, Procter and Gamble and Toys R Us.
Sponsored entertainment – now known as: brandvertisment or advertainment is the player as marketers seek to reach jaded and busy consumers.
“We want the pop culture dialogue to include Burger King”, says jeef Hicks, chief executive at Crispin Porter, responsible for the Angus steak burger campaign. “The mission is not about generating awareness of Burger King…because everyone knows Burger King, no – we want to make a connection. We want to make Burger King the kind of brand people would want to wear on a t-shirt. Americans understand and a p p r o v e that entertainment is brought to them by somebody. The objective is to bring it to them in a way that’s appropiate and makes a c o m f o r t a b l e and n a t u r a l connection.

Well so much for the mediabusiness input and contradictions on a fucking burger and back to the personalized experience, as our little touristee outfitted group encountered and swallowd the Angus. Apart from the restaurant as they call their foodfactories, hasn’t had a paintjob since 1983, it had four securityguards and this sign hanging saying:


I ate my burger, I didn’t enjoy it, but I ate it and felt a catholic guilttrip arise. But think of the nerve, the signal of this sign:

Please fuck off so we can sell more junk. You are an idiot to pay what you do for the shit we are selling, you are even more an idiot eating it, and being so idiotic as to enter our fine establishment would please get your loser ass out of here and tell all the other idiots outhere that we are in here waiting to buttplug them on a 30 minute routine. Goodbye and fuck you very much. You are an embarresment, you are a freeloader wearing off the paint, the service and our good manners: Get the fuck out. No. Pay Up, Pay a lot, tip me, and then get the fuck out. And Fuck you again. And you and you and you. No you are not welcome here. Fuck You!

You might think I`m being moralistic, and you are right, I am! So fuck you.

source: new york times, business-section.

February 19, 2005

WHY THIS secondrate poet DOESNT LOVE BIG BUSINESS part 37

Wal-Mart Stores (of which a few alongside with hardhitter franchisers as Toys R Us and McDonald are just waiting to enter Iraq) rang up an impressive 288 billion dollars revenue in sales last year. But the finer print told another story of higher expenses (poor WalMart), slower grownth and less profit increases, which makes the seniorofficers of the Wal Mart Corp., sorry and humilated, so they`ve promised to make next year even better. Wal-mart them selves state that they have been hampered by high gasoline prices (aka Iraq), as feweer costumers drive up and buy less.

Well, its six in the morning and were off in an hour. First the elephantseal colony at Ana Nuevo and then chinese new year in SF. The year of the Rooster...The year of the cock.

In the US these days a TV craze called extreme makeover is sweeping across the nation. The narrative of the TV show is basiclly this: A team of experts in fashion, architecture, style, sex, looks...whatever - is given a task: To ensure the complete change - the makeover - of someones house, style, looks and yeah, you know the drill...whatever. Its a huge succes! The contenders are pushed back into their chairs while the team of experts complete the makeover. The clean sweep. The free money.
Much like the US led invasion of Iraq. I have had however, since the election on january 30th serious doubts about my approach. Would I really have to bend over and give El Presidente© the benefit of the doubt? I feared it, but, then I ran into superwoman Naomi Klein.

I really don`t know where to start, because however much I wanted that he could be right for the benefit of the general situation in Iraq, to be honest - I´m not sure I could live with the boost it would give his legacy, no less than he could give a flying fuck about my opinion.

So the next few postings will be reference to facts that Klein put forward: but as today was one long drive, me impersonating an immigrant taxidriver with the ugliest and longest tits around in dire need for a makeover and because we are leaving for a three day tour to San Francisco tomorrow, I simply do not have the time to go any further now. Theres the laundrette, my 90 minute tennis-practice, the guests, in short: the stuff that priorities are made off.

If I could choose a soundtrack for today it would be: Aaron Nevilles “Tell it like it is”.
I`m sorry I cant figure out to link to mp3-files, so you`ll have to do with the lyrics.

the lyrics:

the man:

February 17, 2005

...downscale the doom and gloom attitude of my earlier posting..? No can do!
After yersterdays lecture by superwoman Naomi Klein, I`ll have to use days to percieve and swallow the magnitude of her wit, her research, her harsh and fresh to the point critique of US and Big Business involment in Iraq. She had me scribble like a madman, but during the Q&A session she never made it to my question written on cards that was passed around.
My question was:
"Do you find the republican and general rightwing determination to get what they want stronger than their belief in democracy per se? If already answered, turn the card over. .. How can I possible get a date with you?"

Yes, I got lucky
and pirated a last minute ticket to the Naomi Klein lecture. Its tonight. The woman rocks! She is on in 90 minutes.

this bannercommercial outside church on High Street:


say it it with webdings:


Naomi Klein gave a lecture at UCSC, another great event I missed. Instead I went we danish friends deep into Henry Cowell Redwood State Park. After days with rain the sun finally came out today. The temperature in the forest was unbearable, the humidity extremely high. Damp and fog, lush smells, dinasaurs at stake behind every giant tree, at least thatwas how it felt.The ground heavy and soaked with rain, the river wild and brown. The trees breathing heavily, damp running up the trunks, the sun painting and bursting thru the crowns, angel-legs. Heavy drops thru the fog, miniature-rainbows, gold and diamond girls. Who do you love?

out of 955.000 hits I chose this

February 15, 2005

Have we no winners outthere_
Well, the quiz is off, the answer was Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys.

Domestica: rain, rain, rain and the forecast says more rain. I fell guilty, having guests here, the weather should be way better. California doesnt look good in rain but I guess it needs rain as well as it needs mexican illegal labor.

These days are but all waiting.

February 14, 2005

to the niggers and the women of the world


This week will however be very silent. We are having another visit from Denmark, I need to woek intensely on my backhand, the doom and gloom attitude of my general postings.

"ASK THE BRAIN" par 7 still needs a winner. Think ocean, think vocal harmonies, think insanity....!

February 13, 2005

A day that mostly exist because of tomorrow: the 9th birthday of my son Julius. Back in those days when he was born in 1996 – the last century – a winterstorm had, as now, frozen Denmark and grandma`s in spe hardly couldn’t make it to Copenhagen because in those days – the last century, you still had to go on a ferry to travel from Fuen to Zealand, and the Belt was packed with ice.

So the highlights of today were to sightings which reminded me of my pathologic ambivalence towards hi-tech industry.
First I saw, walking along the beach, the fighterplane I`ve almost admired the most, a MUSTANG P-51 race by at an low altitude about 300 feet. The Mustang p 51 – namevise – later became the inspiration for a long range of models of the almost as beautiful Ford Mustang, of which my personal favourite is The Shelby 1965 V8 Fastback.
About an hour later I parked my car next to a stunningly wellkept JENSEN sportscar. I don’t know a lot about them, more than they are really rare, more or less handcrafted and obnoxiously expensive, and ofcourse a pre-1972 model, where something happened to the designs of cars in generally which could inspire me to write an anthropology of cars. Most definitely the oilcrisis in 1973 eradicated the famed and numerous musclescars from the American market, and cars generally got smaller, more square and to fit the seventies head on: brown.

the plane:

jensen jensen jensen:

February 11, 2005

The Flottenheimer Quiz: "ASK THE BRAIN" part 7

Which famous and living musician said:
"Beware the lollipop of mediocrity; lick it once and you'll suck forever."

post your answer as a comment. the prize this time...is a surprise

Moreover: a continiuum of yesterdays posting of the notoriuos proffesor Ward Churchill:

The fate of a tenured University of Colorado professor – who compared victims of the 9-11 World Trade Center terror attacks to Nazis, while praising the suicide hijackers for their "gallant sacrifices" – will be decided at a special meeting of the school's board of regents Thursday night. In the meantime, Ward Churchill, who yesterday preemptively stepped down as chairman of the Ethnic Studies Department, remains a professor of Ethnic Studies and Coordinator of American Indian Studies at the Colorado school. The controversy stems from an essay Churchill wrote titled "Some People Push Back: On the Justice of Roosting Chickens," written shortly after the Sept. 11 attacks. In it, he describes the thousands of American victims who died in the World Trade Center inferno as "little Eichmanns" (a reference to notorious Nazi war criminal Adolf Eichmann) who were perpetuating America's "mighty engine of profit." They were destroyed, he added, thanks to the "gallant sacrifices" of "combat teams" that successfully targeted the World Trade Center towers and the Pentagon. The 2001 essay emerged from obscurity onto center stage when Churchill was invited recently to speak at Hamilton College, in Clinton, N.Y., near Syracuse. Hundreds of relatives of Sept. 11 victims are protesting Churchill's appearance at Hamilton, which is scheduled for Thursday. However, the college's president, Joan Hinde Stewart, assured the Associated Press that "however repugnant one might find Mr. Churchill's remarks," the college would honor his right to free speech and the show would go on.

in court, case ajourned. the drama continues and so does this here dramaqueen.

but: Under the headline "Taxpayed Hate Speech" yesterday at NBC news, it seems native american proffesor Ward Churchill have put himself in a massive line of fire, by speaking from the heart and taking the freedom of speech-act all the way. Several lectures and sections at The University of Colarado have been very well attended, because of his views on american new-colonialism - the "they had it coming"-thought. The media as such h a t e s The Indian, and in stead of critizing him for the actuel content of his lectures they go after him with an moral agenda: How can he work from an american institution and still cash in his monthly pay-roll? See, thats a contradiction right? And the reproter shakes his head, and guvenor Bill Owens shakes his head and smiles overbearingly and says: "His ass is fired in less than three weeks..."

one of many links, i dig the picture though:

February 10, 2005

...fromthe second rate dictionary:

DAS UNTERKLASSE© as opposed to DAS UBERKLASSE© : a socially constituted definition of failure.

Pia 25 år efter:
Alle hendes mangfoldige minder til erindringens smykkeskrin forekom hende nu som gule ærter kogt på glemsomhed.

I also read that the last of the Star Wars movies opening in may is entitled "Starwars III - revenge of the Sith", which reminds me of when Thinman baptised the much talked-about trilogy "Lord of the Rings" as "Bored of the Rings" which inevitably leads me to call the upcoming Starwars III for "Revenge of the Shit..."

February 09, 2005

i`ll remain somewhat silent. Tomorrow I am going to fight the law, as I`m going to court defending myself on a traffic-inditement, looking at a 830 dollar fee, i`m conored, pissed off and not very writeable. But, if I come out victorious, the prize in the next Flottenheimer Quiz, "Ask The Brain" part 7 which will be posted sometime over the weekend, will be so much more generous.

And as for the election in Denmark:
Going through several american newspapers today I noted that The Danish Peoples Party is consequently spoken of as the anti-immigration party thats keeping the government alive. She - you know who - is the politcal impersonation of HC Andersens "Ugly Duckling" in this his bicentinnial anniversary year. That`s sad and the signal is horryfic:

Ugly bitch in small pond make big impact.

we all know what she looks like so heres something to let the mind wander. thank u lennard!

WHY THIS second rate poet DOESNT LOVE BIG BUSINESS part 36

Well, while Denmark has re-elected prime minister A.F Rasmussen again heavily backed by rightwing furie P.Kjærsgaard, so much for the depth of a nation. Saddening as it is, it`s the term of democracy and the people have spoken. Therefore a little anecdote from the mothernation Estadas Unidos® which we so proudly support in war, and for a large part use as inspiration for a future state
Call it the triumph of marketing that Ronald McDonald is more recognizable among kids in the US than George Washington. Among kids worldwide, only Santa Claus is better known in his red and white brand-loyal Coke outfit.
Anyhow. McDonalds now wants to send its hideous crusty haired clown into schools to promote of all things….fitness. Talk about a contradiction. The excact same idiotic clown who pushes kid to consume calorie suicide bombs of burgers and fries (which in large parts of the States is no longer refered to as French fries but freedom fries, due to reluctance of France to participate in the Iraq invasion) sodas and so on, will now be used to tell kids that they need to exercise to burn of calories.
McDonald chief creative officer (!) Marlena Peleo Lazar, announced the Clowns new assignment at a recent symposium organized by the Institute of Medicine to focus on childhood obesity. She also announced that The Clown has been given a new title as Chief Happiness Officer.

I mean, man….I just don’t get it, but im really exicted to see if the Clown will actually ask the kids to stop eating the junk at McDonalds or if he will just recommend an extra go around the shop before downing the desert.

would you still love me?

February 08, 2005

Sunday I didnt blog – the posting friday and saturday was done with another helping hand from senior-pc-wizard and friend Lennard at the Flottenheimer HQ, downtownCopenhagendotfuckingdotdk, as I was racing home from LA, breaking my personal landspeed record, and covering the 400 miles to Santa Cruz in less than six hours. What especially kept me going was listening to the track “Beat City” by Raveonettes, a track to be heard in the movie mock up of Ejersbo`s “NORDKRAFT” which opens march third in DK. So it felt right having been in LA, listening to non-released tracks, having insider knowledge and all that that mumbo-jumbo that means stuff in LA if you want to act out the “I`m not really a waitress”-routine.
But I could do nothing but keep my trap shot as we entered the notorious DRAGONFLY nightclub at the corner of Santa Monica Blvd and Wilcox. Owned by a former big titted Ross Meyer concubines – I don’t remember which, but lets call her Tanja Odeur – the club stands out in embracing every thinkable gender. Crossdressers, gay, lesbians, metro and heteros, transvestites, you name it and they were there. And seen from a distance – it worked, it was an immense erotic, friendly and heartfelt night framed in a futuristic stillleben. The absolute highlight was the blowjob-contest. A guy in a very tight thong entered the stage with a huge strap-on dildo calling on the braver among the audience to show off their techniques. Male after female entered the stage and did the best the could to the cheering crowd though the cheers ended abruptly when the last contender bit the of the dickhead of the dildo and spat it out into the audience. But hey, that’s a statement too…
Anyho, the night ended, the club closed, and we went off to eat a burger at “Pinks” before we headed home to Marina del Rey, and fell asleep watching a cheesy preacher stating the questionable perspectives for the crowd at Dragonfly, this country being in a gridlock of scare of alternates , a close resemblance of the heydays of the red scare during the McCarthy years.

all hail the working boys and girls:

February 05, 2005

WHY THIS second rate poet DOESN`T LOVE BIG BUSINESS part 35:

So El Presidente© gave the first annual State of the Union without really going in depth with anything but assuring the People of the World with hot air retorics that we are on the way to Providence: freedom, liberty, democracy will prevail, he stated over and over, to standing ovations from at lot of uniforms.
What he didn’t mentioned but with a sentence about his believe in the straight marriage, and what we didn’t see was the religious right in the background pulling this Pinnochio round by his long nose.
These evangelical activists claim what brought churchgoing Christians – including a lot of hipsanics – to the polls more than ever was the issue of gay marriage. Initiatives banning it were on the ballot in 11 states and passed in everyone, so the religious right is furious with El Presidente© for not addressing the issue much more hardball, in his inaugural speak or in post-election statement as such.
The Arlington group, a coalition of oldschool conservative religious organisations hasted a letter of to El Presidentes© political guru Karl Rove, signed among others by Jerry Falwell (co-founder of Moral Majority, who helped put iconographic Reagan in the white House), James Dobson (Focus on the family, who is accusing cartoon-character SpongeBob for being a gay-icon). They laid down a subtle threat towards the Administrations “defeatist attitude” on gay-marriage and stated that it might be “impossible for us to unite our movement on an issue such as Social Service privatisation where there are already deep misgivings….”

In other terms: It`s payback time!

Lidt bio, klikken sie hier

February 04, 2005

How did kings who were managers of the StateMachinery™ in 16th century strengthen themselves? They used four major mechanisms:
Bureaucratization, monopolization, creation of legitimacy and the homogenisation of the subject population.

Inspired by Immanual Walllerstein “The modern world system- part 1”.

February 03, 2005

Do you know the feeling: You applause not because "it" was good, you applause merely because it is over?

February 02, 2005

WHY THIS second rate poet DOESNT LOVE BIG BUSINESS part 34:

On october 8th, 4 days before I seriously began putting my head on the blog, I purchased a curved radiator-hose for my Mazda Protégé 1990 at Kragen Auto Parts 1475 41st Avenue, Capitola CA 95010; payed 20,25 dollars to cashier number 053874-01 at register 03-1. Having called in advance to order the hose at phonenumber 831 469 8172, this shop being number 01134 is the Kragen Auto Parts chain, with the payment I concluded transaction number 01468761 in their books.
I had to go there by bus number 73 from downtown Santa Cruz, because two nights earlier, just as I picked up a Mexican family hitchiking up to campus, because their van broke down, the radiatorhose in the Mazda blew, filling the car with steam to the tunes of K-hits 97,9 playing the Monkees` 1967 hit “ Pleasant valley Sunday”.

Driving by bus from Santa Cruz to the surburb of Capitola you – so to speak – are given a tour through the rural city limits, the working poor neighbourhoods of America you hear a lot of but doesn`t see. Here in the periphery of the Californian foodchamber the hoods are mostly occupied by Mexican laborers. Calling it a hood might be a mild exaggeration as the hoods are trailerparks scattered along junctions, intersections, swamped landfills with stunning names like:

Beach View, Eaton Estate, Manon Park, Van Ness Park View, Sunset Park, Pacific Pearl, Golden Torch, Mira Mar, Seabright Shear Cliff …

This kind of housing – accommodation – is what the average working family can expect at an hourly minimum wage around 5 dollars. Mostly working for BIG BUSINESS as Dolé (farming-produce, your banana) K-Mart, WalMart and ofcourse the fast-food industry, I was surprised really, I mean truly, I was so naïve as to believe that the terms were different - but I had to acknowledge the fact that these employers have absolutely no legislative obligations concerning social benefits and security to their employees.
This creates more than one funking paradox of some importance. To keep a family going at this level of income, they typically individually holds more than one job, that is, the individuals in the family who is working and can work. That means that they have to commute a lot. I´ll get back to that.

Paradox 1:
These “working poor”, no longer a workingclass, more a new underclass , are to some extent dependant on social welfare as an compensation due to the lack of obligations from the employer and also caused by a, in general extremely competitive society. This in fact means, that the people working for BIG BUSINESS also is draining the hastly crumbling remains of an American welfare-system and any notions of social security. In other words: BIG FUCKING BUSINESS is letting the State pay for their lack commitment to anything but a major turnover.
And there are still people – educated people; fucking scientists outhere, who claims that unimployment, poverty as such is merely a question of morale failure and deprivation, thus excluding social struturalistic and economic issues, people who state that the underclass is the cancer which eats away at the textures of societies. Among those David Murray, author of the 1994 book ”The Bell Curve” and spin-off publications among which, the danish government is ripping off electorial campaign-material as a little pathetic copy-cat, and by who US and UKsocial politics are more than inspired..
So: BIG BUSINESS can afford not to care, because BIG BUSINESS has no body to take care off, it just moves parts around at will, the stratification of economy celebrated by the right as the wonders of globalization.. That’s not a luxury any human can allow unless driven by a serious deathwish.
To me it seems, more than ever, that it is in fact DAS ÛBERCLASS© in a smooth conflation with BIG BUSINESS, which constitutes the cancer which eats away the textures of societies. The academic and political effort to understand and analyze the “underclass” is worth the good intentions if the results are implemented in real politics. It seems although that the notion of a new “underclass” also serves another purpose, namely to take the focus of the more and more powerfull ÛBERCLASS©, which parallel to its growth in power is shrinking in size.
Well Fuck them too!

Paradox 2:
Also the demand from the white neighbourhoods in nearby surroundings of the trailerparks have, among others social Non Profit organisations working at full speed to better the conditions for the people living in the trailerparks, but subsequently they also help keeping housing prizes on private property at an historic high.

Paradox 3:
And so, back to commuting from job to job. Having more than one job, these workers have miles to cover everyday driving. And they do so often in trucks and SUV`s, but not old beat up cars as you could expect. No, they do the SUV thing, which I in an earlier posting stated as the most energy-consuming commodity in American postwar culture, having raised imports of oil over the last decade with more than ever. See posting 11.27 of WHY THIS second rate poet DOESN´T LOVE BIG BUSINESS part 16. So why don’t they just drive an old beat up car? Do what the simpleliving scum do in Denmark and let the old beat up Opel Corsa 1986 become the ultimate statusymbol. But no: its doesn’t work for these people because they need reliable cars – if theres one thing about the monsterous SUV`s – they are reliable and strong multipurpose cars, though also a terrific statussymbol among the poor. BIG BUSINESS have seen it and target these people. Large motor corporations like Ford and GMC set up deals with financial companies which again gives cheap but long term to the Mexican Worker® buying the brand, not just any car: The Ford or the GMC.
In dire need of commuting – they buy, with public transport is as good as non-existing, and not the thing you rely on for being on time 70 miles down the road.

And the story continues…

February...strange, cherry blossom and spring. While enjoying the apparent coming of spring and writing on a piece in the ongoing "WHY THIS..." which have been very silent, January started by promisong something else - I havnt lost it. I`ve been doing my research, trying to ophold the social structure and order of my family - a vehicle lost at sea in post-industrial military and capitalistic madness.

Anyho: check this one out. Cynisism or just a good laugh

February 01, 2005

A couple of weeks ago, I asked my son Julius` classteacher, if they would be interested in a 30 minute lecture on Denmark, as we both were growing tired being asked over and over again of our originate; the classic american ignorance almost as present as the arrogance.
She was very glad and open to my suggestion, so one friday morning, I went with Julius to school, and said: "Gather round ye little sheep, and let bwana tell you of Denmark". And I did: I told them about the iceage, the stoneage, about Thor and Frei and how those names runs through history and across borders, I told them about the proud 400 feet hotdogselling Skymountain, about Kings and Queens, about taxes and welfare, of Copenhagen and The westcoast, about school and soccer, about Lego and HC Andersen, I tought them to say A Æ U I Æ Å Å Æ Ø which made them laugh and then it was time for me to stop and have a litte Q&A, as they call it. Question and Answers. They were few, but one stood out though. A little chubby boy called Eddy asked:
"Oh so you are from Denmark...", dragging the name out: "D e n m a r k", tasting it.

"Yes" Julius answered "I told a 100 times."
"But" said Eddy "...but I thought you said K-Mart"

For those of you hwo doesnt know K-MART, its a large chain of hardwaremarkets. But imagine, inside this kid, the pictures he has had for months. This poor family living in K- Mart, talking K-Martish, imagine his parents frustration over their son insisting on the fact that they have a boy from K-Mart in his class, and dad going: "Its allright son I also had an invisble friend when I was your age", and then after having the kid tugged in, concerned and considering to call a shrink before the weekend golf tournament. There should be no interventions.

dannebrog after hostile corperate takeover: