July 31, 2008

lost the bite on politics. the state of things. offed news and internet and orientation for a long time. sommers coming to an end and slowly I start chekking up againg. did i expect everything to change, or just something to ease my cultural sceptinism or is that really what i feed from: thats things are generally haywire:
The the US rules out the WTO, and yet again has left deveploping countries to the merci nonregulated marketeconomy, that china controls the weather and have expanded workcamps for dissidents to free the streets of the critic masses before the upcoming olympics, that Das Neue Uberclasse again seems to surf the sine waves and jump to economic set back threatening world economy, that man is niether good or evil but weak and no arms are wide enough to hold it?

July 29, 2008

call 114

He had enough off violence. When a friend dies meaningless violence - if violence can be graduated at all - come out utterly idiotic, and should be tried stopped.
The three geasers at jfk square wasnt people he in anyway associated with but be just picked up his son and was standing there with him on stressfull but nice summerday, and really didnt need this appliction to the already troublesome reality. The geasers went head on into a serious fight, moving around the square like degenerated balletdancers, hitting and shouting, dogs barking, people yielding. Blood.
He decided to call the cops.That was his right and his obligation. Fuck violence, he hated it - so be it - he called: 112.

"Hello my name is Donald, I would like to report a fight gone really bad..."
"Allright, but then you want to call the police..."
"But isnt this the emergencynumber for anything...?"
"Yes, but, reallly no, if you want the police you need to call 114."
"Can you redirect me then?"
"No, but I did give you the number..."

He then called 114, waited till a something on duty answered the phone.

"Hello, my name is Donald I would like to report a serious fight. I am standing at..."
"Hold on there my good man, firstly can I have your social security number..?"
"No, you can not, I gave you my name. I would like to report a fight..."
"But before I can pass the info on I really need to get your socialsecurity number.."
"But you cant have it, I am not obliged to give it to you. Could you just please send a policecar around, this is serious..."
"What was your name again sir?"
"Are you gonna send a car around?"
"My name is Donald Hansen...I can see the fight from where I am standing, It is really nasty"
"Donald, you say...Can you spell that for me..."
"For fuck sake, are you sending a car around?"
"No need to get rude sir..."

He hung up, the fight continued. He took his son be the hand, walked in the opposite direction. The police-station was less than 600 meters from here. He let it go. The train back would leave in 10 minutes. He always trusted the precision of public transport to be able to surpress frustration. But he had grown to doubt it.

July 27, 2008

consecutive dreams of nudity, phonecalls I dont answer, and when I redial theres no answer but a tight and frightening noise. I recognise the number from the display, I get empty sms messages, the phone runs out of juice, I dream I wake up, and then I wake up.

July 24, 2008

I tilt the salt-jar, drop the coffee, spill the soda in the car, is a hazard in traffic, tumble in my lazes, forget my keys, talk nonsense and generally just lost the ladder part of my motorics.

He is dead now. Gone. Or somewhere in between.

He died the night of july 10th. My friend, soulmate, brother and verbalizer extravaganza lost the battle against racing cancer. That he got sick in the first place is the injustice thats fills me the most. And that so many people does freezes the indignation. We are all loosers and up for graps.

april 6th 1968 - july 10th 2008.

we simouoltanesously left university in a one cocky move, I didnt now him then, but that decision - leaving university, was the only time our friendship shared consensus, the only time we experienced it, ando the start of a life long friendship.
I had known him half my life when he passed away. Bit farewell there, his wristclock still ticking.

Motherfucking helsinki. Its how you get there more than being there its seems.

Meeting jakob was like moving from a protected enviroment, the smoothness of a shoppingmall - to omaha beach. Take cover or stand up for your self. Way your words. Be what you are, not the least, be what you say you are.

motherfucking helsinki. It is as evil as it leaves me cold. A stranded jet on the runway. snow covers every exit. You have to go, you do not have a choice. the simple fatalistic purpose or lack of the same. it aint moving. unless you get in there.

It was even better than I dared imagine and always grew stronger by the minutte, dispite firery differences, msungo jakob stayed in close orbit. I could always get a clear signal. I could always count on presence and outlines. I never waited and I never doubted.

Not as in motherfucking helsinki.

The books always clearly and without doubt overuled the press and let the press stand naked in its own thruth which is very small. Thats was the joke. Till tears ran from our eyes. Puke out the fire, literally. Was that the beginning, or the end starting to show?

motherfucking helsinki. That was dark. Without grace. I promised you a five day hike to the peak of Kilimanjaro and I am gonna do that: Make the whole Serengeti echo your name. Ill carry that tshirt for years like a tatoo, like a motherfucking cold in motherfucking helsinki. africa tugged away under the horny shadow of europe. The curse of europe you said, is that you can be lonely, but you can never be alone.

The simple truth dripping from the scorched mountains of Andalucia. The circus days: There is good shit and there is bad shit. You called it fugaism. That stuff should mean stuff. Home is where your jamon is. I loved that shit. That - ultimately- there is only good shit and bad shit remembering that it is never as white as it looks.
I learned to love you, without going cold like in motherfucking helsinki, like racing an ambulance on the freeway, safe, but under the influence of the basic insecure and blurring terms of constant change.

It just never should only pay to be good.

Thats why motherfucking helsinki wouldnt do the trick. Its frozen, the soundtrack was brilliant. but not enough. Get that plane off the ground. Liftoff.

It doesnt stop here. It aint that white.