det er din skyld tøger, øv bøv...










today, in danish:

idag, i information skriver Søren Krarup:

Det er Tøger Seidendaens skyld.

Vi er blevet beluret af intet mindre end "Systemet Politiken" som han skriver, og dets vulgære politiske korrekthed til ikke at kunne sige hvad vi mener, om noget i det hele taget, men i særdeleshed...de fremmede.

Endelig, så fik vi svar:
Tøger, din skallede blegfede kulturradikalist. Det er din skyld. Det er din skyld det hele.
Vi er som Søren Krarup, skriver, Tøger Seidenfaens ofre.
Det er sgu smukt. Og det er ren besked

today, I think of just the other day when it was friday and I bought a huge softice at the beach-kiosk in Tisvildeleje.
I was standing next in line to Codan c.e.o Peter Zobel when we were attacked and annoied by the same very aggresive bees, but i`ll you bet he felt more safe.








still no answer from the president.

now heres a blog from a man with something at stake. i have posted my first question to the president and are awaiting and expecting it to get answered if it slips through the censorship of the blog

in`shallah
www.ahmadinejad.ir

today,
the blog is up and running with archives and links and stuff. once again LENNARD worked his magic.
He be The Man.

today,
in danish...again.

ja fy for satan danmark hvad danmark er det ikke det vi hele tiden har sagt, s[ tag lige at få lige den downer skrevet bag øret og knaldet i ringbind og ud på gaderne og råb og skrig og spred budskabet, det må være terroren, nej fy for helvede nu kan det være nok, 10 kroner her og ti kroner der, det er jo en syndflod af forfald, det er opløsende og syreholdigt, fy for satan det vil jeg ikke være med til, en nyhed der gør ondt med det er en nyhed der satttteeeenedme skal ud. godt gået politiken.

light me up like a xmas tree
http://politiken.dk/VisArtikel.iasp?PageID=471016

test

I am having some serious troubles here at NOASRP. My archives and links have disappeared due to a thoroughly technical fuck up by yours truly. So untill I can find someway to right the wrong, which basicly means that I will have to buttplug Lennard again, and he is off into oblivion on his newly achieved Tenere, so...so it goes.

silencio.

Preparing a posting about the significance of the colour white in terms of race and a general perception I to googled the word "white" and had 2.230.000.000 options to hit on, the first one being: http://www.whitehouse.gov/.

The word "black" gave me 1.650.000.000 options, the first hit being of a more local offspring: http://www.kb.dk/kultur/diamant/index-en.htm.

And being the class-concious second rate poet I am, I googled some of the "black" options first and stumpled upon this: http://www.blackpeopleloveus.com/index.html

Its as hillarious as it is serious. Dear readers, if any, check it out.

In the mid-eighties the discussion of how to understand an old native american proverb (the 80s had me relate to all kinds of holistic, occult and alternative lifestyles and ideologies, thus in particular raising the feeling of an immense pluralism, or more correct: an immense anything goes feeling, why I think nowadays populistic solutions to complex questions seems to fullfill a need for simple answers), at more than one occation almost threatened to dissolve my (our) striving new-rock band DIE ENDE.

The proverb goes like this: You cant runaway from the rain.
I for one understood the proverb like this: It doesnt matter if you walk or run from point A to B in an even amount of rain, you will eventually be evenly wet. My opponents insisted, that running that same distance always would make you less wet.

That was the juxtaposition: It dragged on night after night in the reharsalroom. We never agreed, the band finally split up, not because of the discussion, more because of the 80s, I think.
Years later it occured to me the right way of understading the proverb is this: If it rains, and you are outside, you get wet. The question is not how wet you get, but the fact that you do get wet. In other words: there is no free lunch.
I tried selling this interpretation to the remaining members of the band some months ago. The discussion hit the ceiling within minutes. I always, with the precision of a neurotic clockwork, get this memory when it rains, as I did today, I had it cycling in the rain.

People running, people being busy. People being wet. Very wet.

today,
I was fixing my sons bike in the backyard I stroke up an conversation with Frode, a single man well in his sixties. I have greeted him before, and him me back many times over the last 10 years we have been living here, but maybe because we have been gone for the last two years he had forgotten, not about me, but my name.
"I usually ask for peoples last names also", he said after having asked for name, "It makes it easier for me to sort people out."
I then told him my last name: Alsinger.
"That I have never heard before, though it sounds familiar".
"Well, really it originates from the danish island Als. People living there or being born there are refered to as alsingers as those born in Jylland are jyder."
"Oh, I see, but how come its your last name then?" Frode asked.
"The short story. My granddad was a priest, and he changed, no, in the thirties he monopolized Alsinger as his familyname, instead of his original Hansen, which clearly in his mind were to plain for a priest. Granddad was a snob" I told Frode "and great granddad was a supersnob and a priest too. Maybe it runs in the family."
Frode went silent for a while.
"But it cant be. There most be another story to it. I am sure there is. Priests arent snobs. They carry out the words of Jesus Christ and Jesus wasnt a snob..."
For a second there I didnt know if Frode had snapped, should I continue the conversation, but then I remembered that I had seen him carry a little silver neckless with a crucifix, and that he apparently ment business. But still, I know for sure. My granddad was a bonafine stiff upper lipp, a true to the bone snob. I know, I have read his diaries. He was a jugdemental cultural snob.
"Well, I know he was Frode. I dont wanna argue about it, may he rest in peace, but a snob he was."
"I am sure you got than wrong. Priest cant be snobs" he insisted, "but I guess I cant make you agree with me right now, and thats your God given right. But a snob, no one living the word of christ cant be a snob.."
"But then maybe he wasnt..." He wasnt always living by the word, I mean: I read the diaries.
"But then he couldnt be a priest..." Frode insisted.

The conversation faded, as the bike was done. Today, I got to remember Frodes first name but I didnt get his last name, and Frode got to know my surname but I will bet he forgot my first name. Somewhere inbetween we are both very righteous.

today,
I just hope there is one. One than last longer than a liter of milk.

http://www.derplan.com/

today,
in danish:

MINISTER BETYDER TJENER

this only one of many
http://politiken.dk/VisArtikel.iasp?PageID=469624

denmark, rain.
messages. letters. considerations. to do listings. cultural events. flyvers. annoying hairdos and matcing glasses. this years model. tightass democracy. dream of loopholes.