February 28, 2006

RIP Bjarne Alsinger
3.3 1928 – 25.2 2006

After years of illness my fathers heart gave up Saturday and he passed away. Though very ill nothing had indicated the stroke, and no matter what circumstances death always seems to come at least a day too soon.
Born in 1928 and raised by a father who was a very strict priest – and whose father was a priest too, and one of the earliest danish missionarys in India, my dad in the late 40s, maybe fired up by the good spirited postwar times, came out as an enthutiastic jazz pianist, not very much to his fathers liking. He upheld his interest and orientation towards modern culture, and was to become a passionate jazz and art aficianado. Born 20 years too early to be a bonafide hippie, he nonetheless was an early cultural radical. In 1952 he finished his education as a journalist, and from there on concentrated on his job and family, but never lost his influential musicality.
I also personally remember him standing out in the middle class neighbourhood we lived in. He was the first to put a “NuclearPower – NoThanks” sticker on our red Lada 1500 and the only one to drive one, spoke out in the newspaper against local unjust and slumlords. Basicaly a man of the world in a minor reality, a tolerant guy.
In this moment of sorrow I definitely recognize my gen pool bright and clear, and find myself at ease.

However, when his firstborn son, my brother, was killed in a traffic accident in august 1985, my dad encountered years of severe depressions, which never really led him go. In 1992 he retired after a loyal 37 years at the same newspaper, and led a quiet but not passive life until this saturday.

Godspeed Father.

February 25, 2006

the message below is written by second son Carl who turned two yesterday, and who frequently goes by the name of Carl Jr., not to be mistaken for: http://www.carlsjr.com/home/
Though their burgers are great the concept is hopeless.
annnnnnnnnedghueiwg407c n8999999999ihvn+94h2n5v4+29nvjjjiwnjwdvfnwjfdvnfwopgib2rtbng

February 23, 2006

kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor, kein man, kein ball, kein tor...

it has been a while, but let me try again to lure you in with some high quality quiz and riddles.'Alas dear ones, its the FLOTTENHEIMER QUIZ part whatever:

It comes in many shapes and forms, sometimes piece by piece, but for most caucasians (in other terms: white people) it ends with a cross. What is it?

post your answer as a comment.

February 22, 2006



The deep immorality hit me this morning at 0819 at my favourite local coffee shop: I am but a pissing lie. How could I do it, and think that would be no consequences? Am I ok? No, I am not OK, I am the club pissing lie. How could I not pay only because I had the chance? How could I sweet talk that shop-assistent just last Sunday racing back from Copenhagen, divert her from the fact that I had indeed just fed the Volvo a full tank of gas?

I could and I wanted to, I thought in the moment doing it, because I overheard a conversation she had with two guys who would never win my sympathy – not that they needed it – but, I just didn’t like them. I didn’t like the car they drove up in, I didn’t like their half ass talk about the tacky spoilers they put on the Opel Vectra. I didn’t like it as much as she did The signal she exposed, that she didn’t really have time for me waiting in the line. I hate that. When I am about to pay and I have to fucking ask to be waited on or merely served. Service in Denmark is at general historic low is what I think. Working up my temper I noticed it was an old school register. I was at a local gas shop somewhere in Denmark, no cooperate culture here, I noticed the surveillance camera was moist. My car couldn`t be spotted. She would hardly know that I had in fact driven there. So when I was up to be served, I ordered a hotdog, sweet talked her while she prepared it, got the hotdog, then went: “oops, I need smokes and a coke too…” which I had and paid for, but not the gasoline. Not the gas. I got back in the car, laughing to my self, and arrogant I waited for approximately 2 minutes tuning into some radio-station awaiting a reaction. But there was no reaction. So the gas was rightfully mine and I sped out of there. And forgot about it. Until this morning. Until this morning I was OK. Now I am not ok.

The coffee shop is packed. Men. Men going to work, men at work, taxi drivers (here in Retroville© they are all still white), craftsmen, outcasts and what not. Everybody is smoking as this is the only place you can in fact smoke and two things stood out that made the situation even more not OK.

Heated discussions at almost every table of the Mohammed Case. The case of discussion primarily based on today`s headlines in the tabloid press, sensationalistic, short sighted, brown but long lived.
I basicaly find the whole matter a question of stupidity meets stupidity. The global system is only illuminated by a careful study of the past.

At the tables not discussing the Mohammed case today`s topic – as so many other mornings I had my breakfast there, was the DIY spirit the discussion collectively represented. The amount of beers, smokes, candy that had crossed the danish-german border within the last month seemed without end. The amount of material for different projecst: garages, garden houses, dog houses, hen houses, new roofing, playgrounds and so on. And all of this: a moonshine, nepotistic survival of the fittest and proudest entrepreneur.
And, it never changes. I forgot that entering the place feeling OK. Now I don’t feel OK, I don’t even think I am OK. I am a pissing lie among pissing lies. It`s not OK.
“Get a grip son” someone shouted as I was leaving the place, not at me, but someone else, but does it matter? “Get a grip son” he shouted. “Everybody fucking does it”.

How can I be fucking OK?

February 16, 2006

...Since returning home to Retroville, I lost track of the El Mundo, and especially the war in Iraq. Gone like an old friend, I yesterday encountered this site and I thought: "Yikes and Hello, have u been old buddy?"
So in a time with an overheated debate on the freedom of speech I think of the war in Iraq: Whatever happened to the WMD`s, the uranium covered bombs, the cluster bombs, the lack of civilian bodycount and independent news communication? And I thought, does powerplayers always attrackt more powerplayers? Power wants power as more wants more?

well this little surplus individual is off for the weekend. Have a good one.


February 14, 2006


The most erotic thing I have ever experienced on Valentines day was in Copenhagen Botanic Gardens, as I two years in a row encounter birds, real birds, birds, with wings, making out, and later met a trained biologist who confirmed that mating-pattern.
And a day like today, I mean, its is now 915, the sun, I mean: I can actually see and feel the sun, we are talking over zero degrees, light: this day: a perfect day for making out, to be the bird on a wire, or the feather of a bird.
But I aint, I`m stock with codes of conduct. Happy Valentines.

crazy oldschool:

February 13, 2006

is my oldest son Julius` 10th birthday. Congratulations and party on!

Other celebs born on february 13th: Jerry Springer, Robbie Williams, Chuck Yeager and the one and only Ester Pedersen.


February 12, 2006

The real art of conversation is not only to say the right thing at the right time, but also to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment....

February 10, 2006

My curse I guess is reflection: the son of gravity and pluralism.
With last couple of weeks hype, burning, raping killing and torching over the infamous Mohammed cartoons, I hang baffled, amused and hurt.
There`s just too many things in the whole matter I cant grasp: I, first of all, can not undersstand the motivation for even bringing the drawings: I point to Jyllands Posten. I can understand it, seen in a loyal JP context, as the newspaper in question over the past few years have increased their focus at the muslim population of DK and the world per se, and are among the squeekisest squeekers in the xenofobic pulse. In that regard the drawings was nothing shocking. But: a serious debate of the freedom of speech: hmmmm, yes and no. They are kicking a group already lying down because they can and non the less, will.
Thats one thing: Then theres the infamous (ISLAMISK TROSSAMFUND) and their most unfortunate pilgrimage to The middleeast: There is no doubt in my mind that they have indeed add fuel to the fire, and they should - just as they demand of JP - be reflective enough to take their part of the blame. Not that it would stop the riots though.

Then there is the typical unbelieveble arrogance with which we tend to forget history...or for the matter, the believe in western history and cultural codes as the correct perspective on history. In other words, freedom of speech, is not more than a 150 year young civil right in DK, and before that the struggle was fierce. When it it said about the muslims that they resemble the dark middleage, we neglect the fact that Europe once was as dark. Need I mention the 8 million women executed duing the Spanish Inqusition for example.? Killed, raped, drowned and burned and what not for challeling the patriac religious construction. History is scary reminder.
So now we have it, the freedom of speech: then fucking preserve it, instead of hitting the muslim world in the head with it going: hahahahaha, I got one but you cant have it!
In a way I think, the domestic debate have partly destroyed the effort to gain that same democratic right, represented by people, groups and organisations in the mid-eastern countries now experience the heated demonstrations and riots. A very unfortunate consequence: to give freedom of speech a bad reputation, if freedom of speech is the freedom to blasfemic outburst.
I mean I can live with, blasfemia, I was brought up that way. It needs no explanation.

I am a-rambling here. I mean basicly it is a matter of making the effort. Get of the high horse. Be decent. Reflect. Joy de vivre. Maybe there will be more, maybe there wont. Take the risc, make the effort: drive safe: GLOBAL DIGNITY!

And in the mean time dear Denmark: Get used to it, live with it, no more travel light, travel with all your guards up. Undo that dannebrog from your fjaellraeven back pack.

February 08, 2006

away the world and away the mystery. ..heeeeeeeeeeeeeeere`s bona fide vintage sign heaven:


February 06, 2006

9 patronising words on the scorching of the DK international rep. I know, I have siad it before but I will say it again:

succes is the random factor fraternising the religious ghost.

And some basic ethics and morals:

dont kick a man lying down.

And who said muslims didnt have humour? I saw this text written at a banner with a picture of Anders Fogh Rasmussen in...JyllandsPosten today:

Shame on you, looser!

February 05, 2006

the "global dignity" campaign had a sneak kick off today. A 6 feet tall pink snowgremlin now stands at the sacred ground next to S√łndre Sogns Kirke, Viborg, DK.

photo documentation will be posted at a later date.


February 02, 2006


February 01, 2006

soon to be seen in a busshed, lightpost or ... just somewhere near you: