Sunday, August 30, 2009

10. Landscape with dead woolly mammoth.

Exactly how the woolly mammoth got extinct is one of the mysteries of our prehistory. It may have perished as the climate got warmer, or maybe man killed it off. As we do. Whatever happened, we couldn't have co-existed for long anyway. Having large quantities of ivory growing out of your face is not a good thing, not with humans around.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

8. No new news.

It's not exactly a new question, but not one of the eternal ones either. Here it is anyway: Why do people, who spend 99,9 per cent of their time driving on blacktop, keep buying cars which only really work in rough terrain?

Saturday, August 8, 2009

7. Saluting the frisbee.

In my humble opinion, the frisbee is the greatest thing to come out of the environmental disaster the material plastic has proved to be. It's one of those rarities which are both cheap, fun, and good for you.

Friday, August 7, 2009

6. Ratatat.

Usually at festivals you get a few positive surprises. My biggest one at this years Hove was Ratatat - an electronica duo from Brooklyn, New York. Check them out here( Wildcat is one of my personal favorites, by the way): http://www.myspace.com/ratatatmusic

And just so it's mentioned - no dead bodies were found at the festival. As far as I know...

Thursday, August 6, 2009

5. Entrance.

I can't say I've been denied entrance to restaurants too many times in my life, but there's been a few. A couple of times for being intoxicated. Some times for not wearing shoes, or the wrong shoes or pants, or both. And once, at a roller disco in the late seventies, for wearing a plastic skeleton with glowing red eyes attached to the zipper of my pants.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

4. Crows conversing.

I'm not sure if you know this, but around sunrise every day the crows living in any given area gathers. I don't know why, or what they talk about. When you spot them during daytime, they're usually one or two, but not at the gathering. It's called a murder.

A few years ago, on my way home from a long night of Playstation-worship - GTA being the gospel of choice - I came across one of these gatherings. I heard weird noises first, cawing I suppose, before all went silent, and I saw them. There were tall trees on both sides of the street, and their spring-naked branches were filled with crows.

All staring at me.

As I walked past them, their eyes, occasionally glinting in the street-lights, followed me. And when I looked back, before rounding a corner, they were still staring in my direction. I can still dig up the creepy feeling of hundreds of crow-stares between my shoulder-blades, any time. Like now. And I'm pretty sure I interrupted something important that morning... So, if crows suddenly take over the world, I won't be the least surprised.

Monday, August 3, 2009

3. The death of the birds.

Right now, a warning should be issued to the local sea-birds as well. Do not land on the ocean!

On Friday, the tanker Full City wrecked outside Langesund in Telemark, and its oil-spill is moving along the coast of Southern Norway like an ugly, dirty, gigantic monster. Thousands of beautiful beaches, fjords and islands are threatened by the man-drilled creature - helpless birds dying slowly in its wake.

As usual, instead of adressing the real problem, the authorities charge the captain. What we need is alternative fuel, you lazy bastards! As a country, we're richer than most because of the oil, so we have a special duty to do something here!

Man, I should've been king...

Saturday, August 1, 2009

2. Conversing with crows.

I once knew a one-legged talking crow. His name was Kalle Kra - in English that would be Charlie Caw, or something - and, being the polite bird he was, he usually presented himself when you met him. Every kid in the neighborhood knew and fed Kalle, and he had full amnesty from the evil that lurks in the hearts of boys.

If only our planet's many endangered species could learn a few words. For most of the big ones, "Please don't shoot!" would do nicely.

1. Departure.

The journey that begins here, possibly not too far from my own home, is both long and weird. You'll visit places real and imagined, presented in different forms of story-telling and visuals. Passports will not be required.