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Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Power Windows...

Life becoming a routine?
Do yourself a favour, junk the power windows, so called as they draw you to them as soon as get home, or after you've made food or whenever your tired.
Ok, lets distinguish the difference between a pc and a tv. You can use a pc for whatever, most importantly communication.Good and bad.You can be creative and use your fantasy as well as communicate.
However, the TV is just a media machine that spews out crap. Just take a step out of the paradine box and think about it.
Try it for a week. I'll admit to watching such classics as "monday fight night"...and thats about all apart from the news which is out of facisnation more than buying what others want us to believe.
So, unplug and see what you can make of your life without the new flatscreen.
Read some books, write a diary, take up that hobby you always promised or just see how much you actually have left to talk about with your partner.
One of the best trips I ever made was a week away on a 1921 wooden racing sailing boat in stockholms skärgård. But thats another story..
Trust me, try and get away with a week of everything else apart from the Power window thats rotting your otherwise interesting life away!
Or maybe thats all your life has become?


Monday, February 26, 2007

The Piano String religion

So, as you can gather the morning was a bit rough but this evening made up for it for I have discovered a new religion that promises extended enjoyment but where celibacy isn't a must and you can drink as much as you want.
It's called;
Stretching! And the delightful Linda held the pass..and I mean delightful..

We had to grab a partner and stretch against each other.It was embarrassing how toight my hamstrings were and at some points it sounded like the piano wires were gonna snap.
I passed the comment "this is better than sex".Nobody laughed..

I've always been really bad at doing this and survived until about a month ago.Since then its been a medial ligament pain and twice I've pulled out of training due to a pulled hamstring in my left leg.Not good. So now I'm signing up for Stretch, Pilates and maybe even Yoga. Tai Chi was on the cards but I'm on a roll now and I have to ensure I keep this weekend and its indoors..

Stretch.The New Religion.


"Tell me why I don't like mondays"...

Monday morning and flight time again.
Everything that could piss me off happening and for the first time I had the answer to the Boomtown Rats.
I nearly missed the train.
I had a lunatic who tried to take my wallet from the table on the train and pretend it was his.
I hadn't had a coffee.
I had to pay 195kr for a trip that takes 15 minutes.Airport tax..Strange that it only costs 95kr the other way.
And then it was the control gate nightmare again..
This time I stood behind two ladies who obviously couldn't read as they had to unpack their laptops, and then take off their jackets and then start asking questions..Grrrrrr READ THE FUCKING SIGNS!
and then it came..having just purchased my first coffee of the morning, a 7/11 special (my favorite at this time) and Mr Protector of the faith informs me that I can't take it through..
"you are taking the frikken piss, its a cup of coffee..I can buy coffee on the other side"...
the grin came followed by; "I don't make the rules sir.." AHHH..take the coffee...
Of course a body search followed, luckily without rubber gloves and starfish piercing but at least the girl gave me a grin when she pointed at my rear and asked what it was I had in my pocket;
"whats this?"
"A toight ass" was my response, quickly followed by laughter as a young girl of around 6 years old was being searched (NO JOKE!) ,
"well now we have found the shoe-shine terrorist " I said and walked away laughing. Nobody else laughed..
Once on the plane I found a seat near the cockpit.This is vital if one has seen the first episode of "Lost".Feeling content that despite being one of the last on the plane (I never understand why people are so anxious to q and get on first) I then heard that noise that had me putting my head into my knees. A baby in the seat in front..crying..Noooooooooo!
Still, no coffee..
Special treatment for the baby though and the parents, special life saver.yeah, right, like thats gonna help..and if the family does survive lets hope we don't remake "alive"....nice and tender.
I'd only been up a few hours. Walked 3kms. paid too much on a train and managed to get stuck behind a screamer, and that was before we had cabin pressure effects..and still, no coffee as Mr Nazi had taken it.
yes indeed, Tell me why I don't like mondays!


Sunday, February 25, 2007

Chicago memory

Okay , before I hit the sack, today the mention of the states reminded me of a rather interesting meeting I had.

Whilst I was awaiting a flight in Chicago back in '90s (i was in the states as a hired bodyguard..another story),
I searched around to finally find the smoking area.It was a really small cornered off area and there were a few tables and that stench that even we smokers mind.
I was joined across the table by an older man.He was smoking really strong cigarettes that had a very individual smell.
We struck up a conversation based on the subject of his ciggs.He offered me one.It was strong.
It turned out he was bitter about the fact that the United states army had decided to decree that he was a hero and give him a bunch of medals, which he showed me.
He resented the entire idea of being a hero and said that you do stupid things when your shit scared and then 50 years later they make you dress up in old army clothes which were uncomfortable back then, but now even worst when you didn't need them.

He was so "matter about the fact" that he was a genuine WWII hero.The type he read about, the type you watch John Wayne recreating.And yet, he had nothing good to say about the whole affair.He was too old and too tired to catch an Atlantic flight to stand with people he didn't know to be reminded of those people who he did know who couldn't be there as they had died at the same place they would now lay a wreath. And he said he was no hero, just a guy who would have done what any other guy would have done.The difference was that he not only survived but had witnesses.

We shared our time and smoked his ghastly cigarettes that he had started smoking after his Europe trips and said farewell and good luck to each other.

I thought about this man today. I wonder if he is still alive and if not I presume he would have had a very colourful funeral with the 12 gun salute.
I hope he is still alive and smoking those ciggs on a porch somewhere.
lets face it, not everybody gets the privilege to meet the genuine article everyday.


...Cleaning out my closet....

Sure, reading over the past posts you've probably thought that I've finally lost the plot..again.
facts are facts, seems like it's time to clean out my emotional closet.
A couple of sms have gone out and come in and once again I face rejection from one end and an open embrace from another, and the funny thing is I reckon I'm simply one of millions who has the same dramas placed on at my front door..difference is in interpretation.

As I've already mentioned from friday evening something changed.I'm coming closer to moving around the corner.Today would be a last day with the kids for a while and I asked them what they wanted to do. They asked if I would take them to an internet cafe in town. Not really something I wanted to do but I decided to take them to their IT mecca and let them play the latest and greatest games, on the condition that we would walk there.
As usual the conversation was great despite being mostly about Bruce Lee and how poor 70's films are.
When we arrived at the cafe we thought it was closed.It looked closed but a bright neon light showed the opening hours and those lights were the brightest items to be seen as indoors it was basically a large dark room filled with pc's and the next generation swearing as their mate had blown up their tank in "battle Zone 2". As sad as it seemed, I paid the monies and gave them an hour in what I conceived as one of Dantes circles of hell.
As I closed the door behind me I noticed a sign on the door that made my heart sink;
"e-sport, sport for all"

The next hour was more proof that things were changing. To what or where I cannot say. I walked through the snow and headed into town despite knowing most places would be closed.
Whilst waiting at a railway crossing with the boom down I actually started composing a poem in my head that comprised the words; Seppucu, you, guns and fun, ain't no fun, on the run!ain't no haiku..
I sat in a new Cafe, built in the same building as the old Jarnia.Sure, I had walked down these streets so many times and now I felt like a complete stranger. I always hope to run into somebody that I knew from back then but it doesn't happen anymore.
I sat in silence. Listened to people around me talking about tv shows, couples or trivial pursuits.

I have to keep focusing on what is happening.Whatever it is has crept up from nowhere and is taking up a lot of time and energy.
I decided to start Tai Chi as I was feeling like I was tight.
I decided to start writing the book that I'd always wanted to start, with the first sentence cemented years ago being;
{the reason i wrote this book is simple.Everybody has a book in them, or so I heard.}
I decided to finish off the project with the dark room.
I decided to ensure that I enrolled on the refresher course for french.
I decided to start planning trips around the globe.

The list went on and on.It was time to collect the battlers in "club fetma".
I was trying to put more focus on what was going on around me but it wasn't easy.I couldn't drop the question marks.

Friends phoned in the evening and friends being friends I switched mode. Plans were laid to do 2 weeks in the States with my best friend and an acquaintance.They had booked their tickets and would be going some off road driving in the canyon, Moab and we'd kick off in Las Vegas. A busy two weeks and all of us hitting the same age.Good times ahead then.

Now it's late. Reflection time and obviously I have to start looking through the closet and throwing out unwanted items, packing down others and start looking to make space for some new items.
I mean, books, opera, poetry and a lot of reflection.
getting worried Bro.
Otherwise, and to qoute an acquaintance ;
"we call this a 40 år kris...kanske"


Saturday, February 24, 2007

Do I look like a domestic terrorist...

I tried to get an early night knowing I would be up early to take the 0800 flight north, which meant of course two bus trips before I even made the check in.
Everything went to plan apart from waking up at 01.45 and then 05.10. Not sure why, perhaps habit. But I have to admit over the years I've got more and more wary and scared of flying.
Not sure why, maybe it was a friend of mine who is a flight technician at Arlanda told me too many stories about bumps you feel through your rear when landing and taking off.
It's not that I'm not used to flying, I made the trip from Edinburgh to Geneva on my own for over 10 years. I heard somebody says the anxiety comes from growing older, suffice to say every time I do fly I usually get very superstitious and ensure that I let somebody know what to take care of if don't return.
In the past I haven't been the best person to wake up with in the morning. So when walking through the metal detector to be asked to remove my shoes wasn't the best remedy.Added to the fact that I can say what I think I passed the comment "do I look like a frikken terrorist"..
You see, I reckon they're taking the piss. As I was alone walking towards three of them they probably decided to ruin my morning even more.
The reason I say this is simple. Consistency.The last time I caught the same domestic flight the "star gate" protectors made me unpack and remove the toothpaste from my bag, to be put into a separately sealed plastic bag. I was also asked to leave an orange juice that had more than 100ml of fluid..But today they never even mentioned my bag.Not a word.Today it was the humiliation factor of having to remove my shoes. So basically, its a fake.A domestic flight and three people so bored they decide to have a bit of fun.

By this time I'd surprised myself by already finishing the fiction book that I had started the evening before.This is a first for me. I have already replaced it with a book from the same author and a tip sent to me by somebody who obviously knows me better than I do.

I've had the pleasure of spending the day with my wonderful sons, whose youth make every conversation an adventure and memorable.
Today I was asked how old I was when the tv was well as why did Dolph wear mascara and every time Tia Carrerra came on naked they made a sound and looked away..i suppose watching "angel" in lingerie getting beheaded by a yakuzu warrior was a bit much but luckily they looked away.Didn't expect that to happen..
Our night has ended on a classic, "Way of the Dragon" with Bruce lee.
A proud father watches his two sons watch their first Bruce Lee just as i did in the 70's, as well as the cruelest of films featuring Fu Manchu. My grandmother used to set up the spare bed in her living room and let me watch these films when I was 7 years old on a small tv.Black and white of course. And I do miss those days and my grandmother. perhaps it's also from having my sons around me that makes me think back to when I was young and naive.
And now of course they want to follow the path of the dragon, which is of course better than chasing the Dragon, a heroin addicts biggest problem.Why? 'cos you never catch a Dragon..
It hasn't been an entire day of "Power Windows".Both Tv and Pc have been replaced by conversation.The only kind of conversation you can have with your own two sons about important aspects and less important aspects of life. The variation and topics cover an immense range and it's important to let them find solutions for themselves and not try and brainwash them with my own ideals.However, we do enjoy fighting each other physically into submission and they have been raised with Scottish character. Should be interesting when they're older as they do not embrace jantes law through their own judgements which is always interesting when it comes to getting notes home from school and the following phone discussions..


Friday, February 23, 2007

Going through the motions or not..of what?

Its friday evening.
No Masi this evening, I have an early flight to catch tomorrow.
I suddenly put down the book that I was reading and looked up.
Realised it was the third time I was listening to "Che gelida manina" from Puccinis' Opera La Bohème. Neither unusual nor pretentious as you would expect from somebody who shares the passion alongside Slayers "Christ illusion" cd. Different moods and situations lead to different musical channels to ensure fullfillness of the mood.Not many people know I hold a clarinet 8th grade diploma and have also played the piano.It's not really a conversation opener.
However, this evening is different. I've gone through some motions without realising until now.
Fridays are usually prebooked with a training session or meeting up with friends.
This evening I got home, filled up with fuel for the body as opposed to making food that I would consciously enjoy and just lay down on my sofa with book in hand, Opera in the background and a cup of espresso from my Vibiemme.
Something awoke me out of this subconscious slumber and I looked around at my living room. I don't have much in it despite its size and its almost a reflection of what I hold dear at this point in my life. hardly any furniture, 500 plus cd's, a box of my old records from an original 68 pressing of "help" to a double album from Michael Schenkers "live in Japan". It all came shipped from Scotland 20 years ago. A 500kr tv sits on top of a black stool in the middle, a horses head made of wood is in the corner, a present from the Swedish Championship dinner and Vänersborgs most loyal fan, two presents in glass given to me by a ladies team that I coached and stereo separates on the floor in no particular order. The walls are bear and have never had anything hanging on them and a lamp resting on an old pc running scsi disks gives me the light to read my book.And yet it's enough for the moment.
The book which I am reading is giving me the yearning to follow an instinct and the music is a reminder that despite virtually knowing every articulate word sung I still don't understand a word of Italian, so I hang on every word not actually knowing what is being said.This isn't usually the case with anything apart from Opera which mesmerises.

And here comes my point.There is no point.What happened.Something changed.Suddenly I'm at peace and content without having a terrible feeling attached.As opposed to previous experiences this one feels more genuine and for some reason I get the distinct feeling that I have turned a corner and at the same time don't know yet whats around it.

Earlier in the day I'd had conversations regarding the politics of America and how people in general over complicate discussions, arguments just for the sake of it.Keep it simple.Don't over complicate was my argument.Save the planet, cure cancer as opposed to building another fighter jet, is it so difficult? Corrupt world we live in.Seems like saving our own planet has become our own charity by submission to people who sign millions away on military contracts and the latest headlines read that we're eating ourselves to death faster than we're starving to death.
It's all fairly simple isn't it and somehow I feel as if I have to do more than simply argue my opinion.
I actually googled Buddhism today as I've become more and more interested in the philosophy.
celibacy and no drinking.I asked if there was a dress code to my fellow workers.Of course they didn't take me seriously and remarked that I would have to stop using the word "shagging". The 5th largest religion in the world prohibits the word "shagging"?
So, its been the big three today, Politics Religion and Sex.
As I said, a definite change is in the air, hence the words I wrote above.

Kiss. Keep It Simple Stoopid.
Battle plans for the 24th we're written down today.
Everything simplified.Basics applied. And then a sudden change.

hmmm...we'll just have to see what happens...


The brighter side of a new low..sad, real sad

Last night I experienced a new low side ever of sad! sad! sad!
Just as I had decided to sit back and start reading my new book I was beckoned over to a friends and after a wee chat accidentally got caught up watching possibly the worst program ever.

However, first and foremost could Christer and Jeanette please stand and take a Bow..Whatever made you guys decide to concede to getting involved in the "Sex detectives"...
I'd only ever seen the British version of this which was bad enough but now, with the Jantes lag ten commandments in hand I had to (? captivated..) endure the most embarrassing 40 minutes ever..
The plot was simple: Christer is a truck driver, has a pony tail that gets brushed by his wife whilst he squeals like a baby (despite full arm tribal tattoo..) and his concept of sex is simple..he doesn't have one.His record is 4-5 minutes if he can be awoken from the sofa..
His wife under interview gives him a hand shank and "its nice with a quickie...again"....
Ok, bad enough to listen and watch this but to then have two extras from "Children of the Corn" discuss what the flower pot people we're god!
We then went through the scenario of Christer becoming a sex God and being made to go down on a somewhat artificial looking vagina and also practice on an orchid having been shown by his mentor..He made a complete hash of it by first spluttering out his snus which made it look as if the virgin white orchid had shit its pants and then by nearly swallowing the petal..To watch his mentor go down on the unshaven haven (correct..plastic pubes, looked like something artificial from Hornbäch..) was too much to bear..
Then it was Jeanettes turn..
She was to stand rather timidly next to a mannequin which her mentor had attached a rubber dong too, making the mannequin resemble John Holmes..
This became even more distressing when the mentor couldn't stop laughing with his opening line "ok, lets pretend this is Christer.."...giggle giggle..followed by an interesting pan on her face which kinda showed a "I bloody wish grin...
The poor woman was shown how to do an unerotic penis massage (?) to ensure that old trucky Christer would break his record. She was also given a wee toy to add to the joy..
Basically at this point the tv should have been outside in the snow, but no. You just had to see the ending, the crescendo, the finale..would he last more than 5 minutes, would she tickle her tonsils and would he remember to remove the snus or leave something on her front bottom..

Ok, please, anyone, why would anyone put themselves through this?

so, we then see the finale..with muffled sentences like "well at least I tried" and the hand movement on the vibro toy as if it was a Black & Decker Mouse(for sanding those difficult areas..) . Pre-course was an entré of erotic massage and at this point I felt I had accidentally changed channel to "Animal Planet";" the walrus mounts the sea cow typ..."

As I sat there with my friend we had both hidden our faces into the sofa cushions crying shame and basically felt like a silent still shot from South Park.

I didn't think it could get any worst..but of course, this is the sex just as you thought the sadness couldn't get sadder ole trucky Christer decided to slip outta bed after the fact whilst his pregnant wife (!!!!) slept and went to the kitchen. Now, whats this we asked ourselves. An after sex smoke perhaps, drink of water? Some quiet reflection time having humiliated himself to millions of viewers having tried to blow his wife?? You'd think so...NO. Of course not, Christer had phone sex with another woman(well, we're still discussing if it was indeed a call to the local zoo) and pulled his pudding whilst staring into his cell screen on his phone (I'm sure I heard a chimp in the background..).

Next morning she's asking for divorce, he gets on top of her , she gives him a 2 minute knuckle shuffle whilst he has a stress fit (no joke here I'm afraid) to wit we hear the sex detectives discussing the fact that maybe they have more work to do....


I really have to get Discovery channel if I'm gonna survive, thank god I'm getting back to training, TV is just killing me and my judgements..


The enigma files

This is a response to a report that was dropped on my lap.
Those who know.Know.
Those who don't understand.Buy an enigma machine ..

This seems strange to be described as a weakness. If leadership was lacking then I would not have been able to take the squad further in any way. Certainly not have 5 straight wins almost all "against the odds" and down to the players playing to specific game plans. Troops will not follow a losing General.

This may be considered a weakness. However my entire attitude is based on what I consider to be the most effective way for my team to progress either winning or improving. Accepting compromise off the field would suggest to the players that anything less than total dedication is unacceptable. If my attitude of wanting the best for my team, the **** team, offends some people perhaps they should question why it offends them and whether they have the same objective.

I will accept that planning is not my strongest area. This was an area of weakness that pointed out during my Coaching qualification. I have been fortunate in that my collaboration with NJ* (as NT manager) worked in such a way that most planning aspects were devolved to him, leaving me to concentrate on the more important aspects of coaching. The results of this collaboration are self explanatory.

This is the only area of the evaluation where I take the criticism personally and indeed I find the comment deeply offensive.
I am a man of my word and I have not knowingly gone back on any of my statements to players or union personnel. Indeed it is a central part of my reputation that I do what I say and say what I do. The suggestion of anything to the contrary is wholly unwarranted and untrue.
Furthermore the very suggestion that I lack integrity is completely confounded by the results and statistics of my coaching record.
As with my point regarding leadership, if the players had not had complete faith and trust in my integrity we would not have been able to progress as we have.


The rest cannot be shown at this time but we shall see.Basically I would suggest a pitfall is on the way, but as a good friend of mine pointed out one shouldn't forget the entire history of events, like the murder of Julius Caesar by his closest allies and friends.The lesser known part of that story is the fact that he was also a highly respected leader of three legions that sat outside Rome and when they heard of his murder decided to cause havoc and murder. Troops can be loyal.
The next two months will reveil the plans of the busy little bees.And they have been very busy, but they have also forgotten some sense of loyalty and of course underestimated a few good men..


Thursday, February 22, 2007


Just borrowed a fiction book, looks really good.One of those books thats actually hard to put down and has big fonts for us oldies..
I also found an extra page for my moleskin.Well, in the wallet at the back anyway.

Ryszard Kapuściński (March 4, 1932 - January 23, 2007)

When I was younger I bought a book by this author than ensured that I hardly ever read fiction again. It really left a mark, along side Hunter S Thompson which I also read around the same time. Ryszard Kapuściński died last month and I would recommend anyone to read one of his books.Unfortunately not all have been translated to English but hopefully they will be in time.

(Following text is not my own)
Ryszard Kapuściński (March 4, 1932 - January 23, 2007) was a popular Polish journalist, author, publicist and poet both at home and abroad.Born in Pińsk, a city that was formerly located in the Kresy Wschodnie (Eastern Borderlands) of the Second Polish Republic and now belongs to Belarus, Kapuściński is generally thought of as Poland's leading journalist. In the years 1954-1981 he was a member of Polish United Workers' Party. In 1964, after honing his skills on domestic stories, he "was appointed by the Polish Press Agency (PAP) as its only foreign correspondent, and for the next ten years he was 'responsible' for fifty countries." Throughout this period, Kapuściński traveled around the developing world and reported on wars, coups and revolutions in Asia, Europe and the Americas; including the Soccer War a "bloody, scarcely believable conflict that Honduras and El Salvador waged in 1969 over a pair of soccer games." When he finally returned to Poland, he had lived through twenty-seven revolutions and coups. In the English speaking world, Kapuściński is best known for his reporting from Africa in the 1960s and 1970s, when he witnessed first-hand the end of the European colonial empires on that continent.

Starting in the early 1960s, Kapuściński has published books of increasing literary craftsmanship characterized by sophisticated narrative technique, psychological portraits of characters, a wealth of stylization and metaphor and unusual imagery that serves as means of interpreting the perceived world. Kapuściński's best-known book, The Emperor, concerns itself with the decline of Haile Selassie's anachronistic regime in Ethiopia. Shah of Shahs, on the fall of Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, the last Shah of Iran, and Imperium, about the last days of the Soviet Union, have enjoyed similar success.

Kapuściński was fascinated not only by exotic worlds and people, but also by books: he approached foreign countries first through literature, spending months reading before each trip. He knew how to listen to the people he met, but he was also capable of "reading" the hidden sense of the scenes he encountered: the way the Europeans moved out of Angola, a discussion regarding alimony in the Tanganyikan parliament, the reconstruction of frescoes in the new Russia—he turned each of these vignettes into a metaphor of historical transformation. This tendency to process private adventures into a greater social synthesis has made Kapuściński an eminent thinker, and the volumes of his ongoing Lapidarium series are a fascinating record of the shaping of a reporter's observations into philosophical reflections on the world and people.

Salman Rushdie wrote about him: "One Kapuściński is worth more than a thousand whimpering and fantasizing scribblers. His exceptional combination of journalism and art allows us to feel so close to what Kapuściński calls the inexpressible true image of war".

Although he was frequently mentioned as a favorite to win the Nobel Prize in literature, it was never awarded to him. In a 2006 interview with Reuters, Kapuściński said that he wrote for "people everywhere still young enough to be curious about the world." This quote from Kapuściński maybe the most important. Introducing him into college level courses provides another view to those students about the world of the Cold War and the role of dictators, "revoltuions" and the US and Soviet's attempts to influence the world. He died on January 23, 2007, following a grave illness.Since his death he has been offered many epitaphs in the press, such as, "The master of modern journalism", "Translator of the World" and "The Greatest Reporter in the World", "Herodotus of our times", "Third World chronicler".


nb.New book arriving early 2007 in English.

Honest ones and the rest..

I'm not gonna announce the position I hold but lets just say it's in a contact sport and I'm privileged to be able to coach and select the best players the country can produce..
Due to incompetence in other areas this can be questioned when it comes to development and it's direction but at the same time we're promised it's gonna change.
Lets say its like a bad relationship, its not "if" your gonna leave it, its "when" your pushed.

So like everything else the question is why stay.Well basically its the troops. They make it all worth while. Sure you can't be liked by everybody and it isn't always easy to keep everybody happy but what makes it really worthwhile is when you finally get the players who carry what all great sportsman have. Strength, honour, humbleness and of course pride.

A Coach who carries my respect is Jim Telfor who said to his troops;
"There are two types of players...
Honest ones...
and the rest!"

Basically we have no time or need for the "rest" as he pointed out.
I have just planned a trip to play a side that Will be without doubt the hardest test that the Squad will have ever played. Much higher than the division in Europe that we're playing and of course it will be our first game and the oppositions closing of the season game.

And it's in the face of Adversity that I hear most of the squad players tell me that they are excited about the prospect of facing such a challenge.And that's what makes it all worthwhile as your lucky enough to meet a few good men, but when you have an entire squad of them then it makes it all worthwhile. Some aren't the honest men I'm describing above and they are transparent to the rest which is a problem I'm aware of. They point fingers at everything else except their own inadequacies, be it the weather, the food, the reff, the accommodation. They blame other players instead of self reflection. As I pointed out, they are transparent and the only question is if one can change that transparency and dishonesty.

I feel this question can be asked out of sport as well and on a more day to day scenario. Are our personality and character entwined in our DNA string? It is a pretty common problem that people in relationships feel ( or hope) that their partner will come around and change..doesn't happen very often (or ever?).
In sport its more obvious and quicker to pick up from an early stage. The quality traits are very easy to pick up and that's why sometimes it isn't always the best club players that achieve the bigger picture (Ibrahimovich a good case study)but team players who have that honesty.

It makes it a privilege to be able to general these troops into a "charge of the light brigade"*scenario and yet feel that we can overcome even the toughest obstacles with positive results afterwards. As Lord Tennyson immortalised in his famous poem;
"Theirs not to reason why / Theirs but to do and die"...

...and meet up in the bar afterwards. The guys have been acquainted with my favorite quote which has been changed slightly;
" deceived us!"


recommended reading: Sun Tzu "Art of War"
*Crimean War Oct25 1854

James and the Giant Peach(s)

It's blues time! Muddy waters version of Grindin' man looking at the 10 inches of snow...

So, a quick look around the channels only to be instantly judgemental and annoyed at a documentary about Macrophilia, a fetish based on men who hand jive on the thought of Giant woman standing on them, crushing things..No, you haven't misread..I just had to watch in utter astonishment as men (?who all had the same voice trait and sounded like their testicles hadn't dropped..?) dribbled at the prospect of their Giant Ukrainian Wife Olga sit on a mini village whilst being filmed and of course tommy tanking himself into a frenzy..
Without sounding judgemental..fuck off creepy freaky weirdos!
I sat there and just pondered over the prospect of one of these "Giantessiphils (?) actually getting their wicked way and making it to second base , if their next wako fantasy would be fulfilled by getting off by strapping on a blank so they don't fall in and stir porridge without falling in..
Worst of all I watched it long enough to annoy me.Seems like the ongoing fashion of showing us documentaries on creeps and freaks, steers and queers isn't slowing down.Our curiosity just gets the better of us.
Well, if you can't beat them, might as well join them....


Wednesday, February 21, 2007

So life goes on...(t.i.c.)

Ok ok,
Last two to three weeks have been a lifetime within a lifetime when it comes to experiencing things that simply don't happen everyday.The only negative is the fall back from basically getting a wee bit carried away and using a fantasy broomstick to sweep everything under the carpet we call reality.

If there was one aspect of my life that I would like to improve on a grand scale it would be planning.I've already written about living in chaos and being a collector of scrap, the two go hand in hand. The creative mind lives in chaos and if this is so then I know that him upstairs forgot to sprinkle some logic down here upon my arrival.

The reason I write this is plain and simple, for the past two weeks everything seems to have been put on hold. The reasoning..simple. I discovered the Stoopid Girl Syndrome(S.G.S) was finally solved. For those of you that have been following the saga, or drama(Q)as it has turned out to be, is plain and simple.SHE DIDN*T KNOW!
*original text reads ;if she doesn't know shes a stoopid girl..typ
Well, to my utter surprise she failed to see the hidden "masonic blinking" when we met up again*.So the question is now, does she suspect theer is something, is she playing a mind game? Perhaps she kinda feels that there is something but doesn't dare to move on it? Lassies(cue dog whistle) minds work in a very different way to ours..It has got me worried and wondering if this is the beginning or the end of the saga.
I'll keep all informed, but boy this make take longer than I thought.Is the gal stoopid or just playing stoopid?:-)

Don't feel lost if you feel this is like reading the graffitti that Jack the ripper left on the walls after his victim that was washed away by the policemen from the same masonic lodge. Some will understand, others wont.Thats the point!
"Stoopid Girl ain't a secret society, its a society with a secret"


IQ Fiskpinne?

It's always nice to meet up with new people and yesterday I was asked along to the local pub quiz to meet a friend and her husband and friends, nice people indeed.
It has been a hundred years since I last turned up to a quiz night and back then it was my best mate who asked the questions, possibly the most position quiz master you could have as instead of telling everybody to keep quiet during the questions he would poke fun at everybody and demand abuse! He was of course intelligent enough to intellectually beat anybody back with the lash of his tongue and I don't think I've ever seen so many people turn out for those evenings. It all ended when he moved back to Blighty.
My nickname back then was "Bodyguard" as he used to drink like a fish whilst I sat there with Coke or orange juice without saying very much, it was during my "building" period and I wasn't much of a drinker. So due to this people always thought I was taking care of him as he was ludicrous in just about every way..

Anyway, back to last night. Talk about feeling retarded..Now don't get me wrong, but I actually feel as if I've watched enough Discovery Channel programs and read enough "new Scientist" to be able to get through a quiz or t.p. evening...last night was a rude awakening...
Ok, Knowing that Richard Gere has jumped ship from being a scientologist to Buddhist isn't really something I'd expect to know, but the first commandment...that I should have known..
I was fortunate enough to be in a team of four so every now and again somebody saved the team with an intelligent answer but otherwise I kinda felt that this was more destructive for the intellectual ego than positive..
What the hell, met some really nice and interesting people and apparently they had never had such a high score, so one can only hope it was for my 50/50 guesses.
Would I do it again, of course!


Winter returns...

Well I don't suppose it's been away, however once again the mild weather has deceived.

Not sure if I'm alone here but there seems to be something kinda nice when you look out f the window and the snow starts falling down in an unhurried fashion only lit up by the streetlights.
I'm not a classic romantic whatsoever but I have to admit there is something special about this part of winter , maybe its the whole black and white / Snowflakes and darkness mixed with the silence. And then...


Talk about quiet before the storm. The unhurried snowflakes suddenly become as busy as army ants and the whole romantic aspect becomes one hell of a swearing match and promises of leaving the country, and why do I put up with this year after year, etc..etc..

Talk about the two sides of snow. Maybe once its stopped and before it starts getting warm again it will be okay, but as for outdoor training and my three weeks off due to the toxic tent virus things are looking bad..

In answer to Beautiful Tragedy...

Ok, before I move on from this I will conclude that within 24 hours I have indeed been or seen examples of Beautiful Tragedies. I knew some feedback or thought process would kick in and the first came after watching a documentary about Jonny Kennedy, a guy born with EB and who basically planned his own funeral due to his impending death. At the same time he ensured the charity (DEBRA) that he set up got as much publicity as possible ( as well as a meeting with the Prime Minister the day before his death) .
All credit to A* for coming up with this as an example. If you get the opportunity then I suggest you try and watch this documentary.The guy wore his heart on his sleeve and had the respect of many.R.I.P.

The next example is first hand experience.
If you ever "have" to wear your heart on your sleeve to try and prove your sincerity and then realise no matter what , it just can't change circumstance then it becomes a tragedy. But at the same time a beautiful one..

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Beautiful Tragedy

"Something good always comes out of something bad"..

I played devils advocate on his subject in a conversation yesterday.Its a cliche and what was put forward was a kinda summary of the tragedy that could turn into a "beautiful tragedy" as something came good out of it.


In the words of the Virgin Mary, come again?

The word Tragedy and beauty to me are too far apart to be used in this context. There may be another word, but in this conversation this combination were used which i actually felt would be a good name for a song..
Looking at some examples I still played devils advocate as if there is a tragedy, lets say, somebody dies and due to this somebodies death it brings people together for the first time who resented each other, I still don't see this as something good.It just means they we're too pig headed or disrespectful to get on before, my point being of course, does somebody have to die before they could get on?

We went though several different tragedy combinations and still wearing the Devils advocate wig I still couldn't get to grips with the cliche.

I suppose on a world stage we can look at this...perhaps.The tidal wave that wipes out Thailand and Sri Lanka put a world on alert to look at making an early warning system that would reduce the threat. It still doesn't work and around 100 billion dollars of charity is still tied up by the governments, but we're trying eh..
And just like insurance companies, can we use natural disasters ? I mean, they don't pay out as you can only control the controllable.

I'm gonna have to get back onto this and consider it some more before defuncting the cliche..


Single fish supper please...

For those of you that have kept up with me and my scribblings you'll be aware that I'm single.
Not recent single either but due to my history it seems so.
I have a lot of single friends who have informed me of the beauty of life being single.No compromises, no this , no get used to it, you don't have to worry about late night sms and calls, you don't have to have the conflicts about this and that etc...I'm sure you get my point.
Now, I don't agree or disagree with their opinion as its each to their own.But one thing that has struck me as I walk through town or go out is how many times I see couples looking so frikken miserable. It's like they have gone through some ritual of ;
"it was fun for the first six months but after that its routine...right?..."


Your just not in the right relationship if you feel this way. I remember being at a dinner with an ex looking around at couples who basically looked as if they were at a wake and putting more effort into eating than actually speaking to each other, and saying;
" if we ever get to that stage then we split up..ok?"
We never got to that stage in restaurants but we still broke up.

"Christ, smile for Fucks sake" I thought to myself today.Misery, misery, misery
Back to that understanding of the understanding, the respect. If you don't wanna follow her to Ikea, or the cute little interior design shop that smells like a brothel due to the overuse of fragrance bags then tell her.Go through the motions, compromising to the routines? Why waste a day looking miserable.Wouldn't be better to say, see you in 10, I'm off to Hobbex to look at remote control helicopters , so when you meet up you can discuss what each missed..

I may be wrong. But whatever, I just feel there are too many unhappy looking couples out there and there is no reason to get there. Of course, you know your on the road to complete and utter ruin if you start planning a bath with candles on "myss fredag" on a Monday evening and actually understanding the concept that all couples start off wild but then things do settle down and that you do understand that once a week during the weekend is fine for sex as that's the way things are after a while...its normal...others are like that...



Sverige-klamydia grotto..?

"du kan kola ut i föstret på pippi fåglerna om du ville"...
Famous last words I heard as I stood there with my jeans by my ankles holding apart the old japseye and getting a long glass rod inserted up there with a cotton bud attached..
Now then..I can't really describe the feeling I felt and to be honest concentrating on the "pippi's" didn't really help as Nurse Diesel was doing her stuff.
I've had my nose cauterised when i was young as i had some dreadful nose bleeds which wouldn't stop and that always left me with a distinct smell of burning flesh 24/7..I only imagined napalm for some reason.
But this sensation was new and worst, oh yes, much worst..Especially as I was only there for a checkup with a problem that we sportsman often face (no details...).
But somehow I ended up in a booth under interrogation regarding how many partners I had slept with, names, dates and rank.I felt I'd been caught by the Nazis..I was basically told I was a liar as I repeated that I was with one partner only and hadn't spread the seed (and at this point awaited the good cop bad cop routine).
Then I was put through the glass rod routine and whilst pulling up my jeans the "results" briefly looked under a microscope as I asked what the frikk they were on about.I had never heard of this plague and was very naive.The answer came immediate:
"oh yes, there seems to be something here...yes..."

Bloody hell was my immediate reaction.I was then taken back to the interrogation booth and basically the look I received was "we knew you were lying Mr British "come here and spread your seed" man..Same questions again, same answers and the threat that "it is the LAW that you must tell us!".The results would be sent to me officially and the Gestapo would be collecting me again if displeased by the answers I gave based on the results.

So I trotted home with a rather uncomfortable feeling somewhere up the root which felt like I had a broken razor blade up there and moving around..and confronted my then girlfriend who of course presumed that I had been playing Casanova in the town and I wore dinner..

I went through two weeks of hell.The bedroom felt like a scene from Richard Attenboroughs "Sleeping bears of the Siberian Winter" and I had become accustomed to making my own dinner as opposed to wearing it.

Two weeks later the results came through.

Results showed that I did not have the plague.Clean..Negative..Nothing..

It was all a mistake but I still get weird when asked for "Topps"...


Thursday, February 15, 2007

large face, small mouth, large eyes and elefant ears!

No, this isn't a description of the author.
Instead it's a well kept secret, in fact so well kept that maybe if it was leaked the world would be a better place.
I was fortunate enough to see this simple tip that I'm gonna let you try and I have to admit ever since I did it it changed my life once and for all.

It's real easy, like painting by numbers.
All you need is a piece of paper and a pencil.

Now, simply draw a large circle (outline of a face)
Then, draw a wee mouth , a nose (not too big mind..) and eyes that are slightly larger than normal compared to the mouth.Then , last but not least, draw huge frikken ears on the sides.(You wont need to draw in hair as bald is beautiful)
options are earrings, studs in nose, eyebrows (trimmed) and a mustache if necessary.

Then, number the ears 1, the eyes 2 and finally the mouth 3.

Look at the pic and consider the following.Every time you have a conversation with somebody use the pic as a priority list for what your gonna use.

Listen! watch ! and finally comment.

I mean, I ask you, in today's environment it seems like the mouth has become 1, the eyes are covered by shades and the ears have been an afterthought or simply forgotten!
My point is fairly obvious, however if you managed to miss it,

Listen for fucks sake! Don't interrupt! let them finish the sentence! show respect, listen, watch the body language and then, if at all possible , have a wee think and finally let the mouth work!

You see how ego I am by telling you this:-)


Fashions within the Matrix- Ego

"he's an egotistical little p*ic*", for me this used to be a rather nasty thing to say about someone.
Call me simple, but when I heard that someone was being ego, or if I was being called ego it was all fairly simple, It was all about me .Well I suppose in a way it still is, however we have now added sugar and lemon to the crepes and come up with crepes Suzette!

You see its like this..
I help someone out. I am ego for helping them out.Why? Simple, cause I'm only doing to feel good about myself..ego, all about me.
This can be taken to any extreme, and its quite amusing to use it in as many circumstances as you want to, calling people ego for helping you out in every situation and I promise they start getting rather confused by the whole idea. Try it , you'll like it.

Friend: "want me to help you out this weekend moving the furniture from your top flat apt?"
answer: "that's frikken ego of you"

Friend: "yeah,I heard you'd hurt your knee and wrist in the tackle, can I come round and wash your car, do your laundry, iron your shirts and hoover up.Them maybe make you some food?"
answer: ego kuk!


Fashions within the Matrix-respect

Maybe I'm fairly new to the fashions within the Matrix (being the social controlled climate) but the one word that I keep hearing more than most, and that includes self-esteem, is respect.

basically I've been out and about making conversation with many a close friend and there seems to be a great misunderstanding of the word to some, and not to others. A lot of problems would be solved if we actually all sat down and defined respect to a simpler concept than it is, as it isn't really that crystal clear when you discuss the topic.

A classic cliche is "you earn respect, otherwise you don't deserve any.."
hmm..its the "deserve any" that's fairly worrying here.Does that mean there is no respect whatsoever until earned? Is the respect gas tank emptied until somebody decides you have earned some respect gas and now you have half a tank.Be a good thing and earn some more and you will earn more..
There is something wrong with that, isn't there? I mean, who am I to dictate that he or she doesn't have my respect, she'll/he'll have to earn it. So with that way of thinking, do I earn any respect by having that attitude? Get me point.
I think that we should look instead at the concept that the respect gas tank is full from the start, so everybody gets treated with respect as I feel we'd get more mileage that way before the tank was empty.I feel this would be much more beneficial to everyone and i would hazard a guess that if we start with a full tank from people we get better mileage and may even require a bigger tank.
I write this as recently it has become much more clearer to me that it is the understanding of the understanding of respect that is causing a hell of a mess in people relationships. People expect but have a fairly interesting way of showing or giving the gas...

Monday, February 12, 2007

Blue monday?Are you the scorpion in this tale...?

..actually not. Good times , good times.

Somebody reminded me of a wee tale from the "Crying game" which kindled a few trigger points.
Remember the wee story about the Scorpion and the turtle (or was that tortoise..)
Anyway, there they are staring across a river and the scorpion asks the turtle if he can ride on his back to reach the other side.
The turtle however looks at the scorpion and says
-"No way pal, you'll sting me and I'll die!"
to which the scorpion replies;
-" no way buddy, its you and me! I swear by everything I have, own , mum, dad, kids, wife, new ipod, flatscreen tv, landrover defender (words have been changed slightly...)
And the Turtle starts believing the Scorpions sincerity and gets persuaded;
"-Ok, jump on and off we go"..
So by now the turtle is working really hard against the stream and to ensure the safety of the scorpion, when suddenly the scorpion stings the Turtle..The turtle turns around and it its last breathe says;
- "I don't understand...we'll both drown as we're only halfway over...why did you sting me"?

-"its just the nature of things " replied the scorpion, as both drowned in the river.


Sunday, February 11, 2007

Sunday to monday...

Been a pretty interesting weekend, having written about yesterdays hooligans smashing in the windows I'd just laid down my pen when I heard glass smashing outside from across the road.
I looked out and saw two rather devious looking guys walking away from a glass entrance door that they'd just broke and were followed by three young girls who also had a pit bull variant with them, obviously heading home to change the tyres on their house. So we should rename this weekend to "Broken Glass" I suppose.

Best wee snippet of the weekend came from my very good friend who had watched the Scotland versus Wales match and given me a call to tell me about his Whiskey tasting exploits. He mentioned just how cold it was during the game but that he was with a very organised family who handed out hot water bottles to all the ladies prior to kick off.Now that's organisation.

Anyway, he also mentioned how rough some of the pubs were around the area he was staying, in Dunbar, just a stones throw from where I bode.
He and his friend had frequented the local bar and asked the barman for a packet of cheese and onion chips, to which the barman had replied:
"this look like a fuckin Bistro, pal!"
Nuff said, basically even the dog carried a scar from all the brawls...

The Ireland versus France match was a fantastic contest and I felt the best team won despite a great effort by the Irish who missed their regular scrum half.


Saturday, February 10, 2007

Just another hooligan day?

From svt:
Huliganbråk i centrala GöteborgPublicerad 10 februari 2007 - 20:47
Ett 20tal fotbollssupportrar slogs med varandra nära Kungsplatsen i centrala Göteborg vid 17-tiden i dag.
En person misshandlades och en restaurang på Östra Hamngatan fick sina fönster krossade.
Det var supportrar från Gais och IFK Göteborg som drabbade samman.
En person greps misstänkt för grov skadegörelse av restaurangen och nio personer omhändertogs för störande av den allmänna ordningen eller fylleri i samband med bråket.

So there I was, sitting down in the Dubliner chatting away with a couple of men from the old country watching the Scotland versus Wales match. Very important match for the Scots after last weeks thrashing by the English and of course on home ground.

I noticed a small crowd coming in the pub wearing green/white scarfs looking worried at the door of the pub.Suddenly they started saying "here they come" and pick up empty beer glasses from the bar.Then the shit hit the fan! I couldn't see who they were referring too but I did notice a crowd had gathered outside the pub and without further a do they started throwing everything within hand reach at the pub doors, which duly smashed the glass and provoked panamodium throughout a busy pub on a saturday afternoon. What was strange was the fact that nobody really reacted to the guys throwing the stuff within the pub.
Then from now where came a crashing sound around us as all the large windows were smashed, sometimes you could actually hear repeated attempts to break the thick glass and it finally gave in and glass came smashing down from every quarter. Things came flying through the empty space and by this time panic had hit the punters on the inside.
Everything happened really quickly and you couldn't see who was responsible for what.Too much panic.
Then all was quiet and the once busy pub was emptied, most of the people had left through the rear of the pub. There was a sea of glass on the ground, bits of broken chair, gloves and even shoes left lying around in now a deserted pub. More importantly however, Scotland were attacking Wales in the 22 and trying to score with 38 minutes on the score board and half time looming...
I asked the barman if it was ok if I stayed despite the wreckage and even tried to get another beer as mine went down with the rest of them as we sat next to the windows, the waitress added -"you must be joking..."
- "Why would I be joking" I kept to myself..she was still in shock from the ordeal.

I have to admit to feeling rather guilty when everyone around me cleaned up the mess as I stood and watched the second half. As I looked outside I saw a street fight start across the road and memories of the good old days in Musselburgh came flooding back between the Hibs and Hearts fans..They used to get on different buses at different bus stops to make the long trek to easter road so they could have a fight up there and then get back on the bus and get off at a Hibs or hearts bus stop!
The difference here was the fact that the cops still hadn't turned up and the culprits that had been fighting across the road stopped and jumped into a taxi.I suppose thats what you'd call modern times.

What a mess.What a waste of time and effort and why? Football is just used as an excuse, nothing more nothing less.Its tribal and looking at the age of the guys it doesn't seem to have changed much.
Good news is of course that Scotland went on to the win the game.

Not just another day I suppose..


They say that everything comes in threes...bad news that is.
With this in mind I'm now in a serious position where I have to make a decision regarding a position that I hold and that I am feeling more and more pressured into leaving and I also feel its deliberate.I can handle this actually, but what I can't handle is the sheer incompetence of upper management and its almost across the board.

How do these people get into positions where they can make decisions and completely miss the point and / or completely screw things up without actually accepting the consequences?
Once again I'm in a position where I know many a good honest man who works really hard for nothing to ensure performance is improved and guaranteed.But due to other persons who are in fact failures in the real world but managed to make a position simply can't accept the fact that they can't do the same job, gain the same respect as they just don't carry the leadership skills or ability' they do everything they can to deceive, catch the limelight and take an ounce of credit for doing nothing.
Same in the business world if it wasn't for middle management most businesses would fold.
In my position, I have watched year and year, people I respect with the same skills drop by the road through sheer exhaustion, as they have worked so hard and received no backup from the top table who are too busy getting as many bonuses or freebies available. Some of them are like mythical creatures like the unicorn, who only come out when there is either something for them or to justify another trip at the expenditure of others.Incompetent and spineless.Jantes lag to the T.
You can't expect everyone to like you, but if your doing the job asked and its successful you expect backing, just as you give backing to people working under you the backing they require.
But when things are going well the spineless look for scapegoats, basically anything they can take to try and push through their views and opinions as without any say they would be nothing.
Time and time again this has been the case and only one man could make the difference, but instead time and time again the last man standing has a grin and still awaits a puppet for his theatre of puppets which he keeps well dusted.
The time has come though to ensure that people who are destructive are routed out and hung in the streets.Ah, yes..Jantes Lag, Sweden,afraid of conflicts, much better to spin a web and wait patiently, open the border and let the Nazis through to Norway, after all the first bomb dropped in the battle of Britain was on Scotland lest we forget..
We could have gone so far, on the brink of something perhaps for the first time.
However, it could all stop here as the middle management once again are being shafted despite showing fiscal profits..


Anna Nicole Smith dies at 39

Must admit to not being surprised when I read the papers today that Anna Nicole Smith had died in a hotel room. I remember watching her reality show feeling sorry for this woman who'd been through a lot and who people had kinda forgot along the way that she was also just a normal human being.
It wasn't so long ago I read that her son had been murdered and I remember at the time actually feeling once again sorry for her, nobody should ever have their kids pass away before they reach an old age.You should never have to bury your children and yet the press were all over it - as usual.
Vultures feeding on misery and they get away with it more times than not.That's the press.
Sure you can argue that they also help to put people into the "all that" circle, but it kinda reminds me of those old stories about selling your soul to get into the public eye, as they can do whatever they want when your there, finally made that accolade that you can't walk out of the house without somebody writing about what your wearing or how fat your ass looks in the latest Paris fashion.
Don't know why, but I actually believe that this lassie didn't mean anybody any harm, she was just a simple person who was either manipulated or was stupid enough to try and manipulate and the end result was that the devil came for her soul helped by his henchman, commonly known as the "free press"..


"Hon var fan inte snygg, du"....

so its 00.56 saturday morning and I just laughed my head off on the phone with a mate, we were having a serious conversation about symptoms of the universe, ie relationships when he mentioned he had some french girl on his msn and that he didn't know who she was..
this person suddenly came online and starting sending emonicons of flys shagging each other...
So I told him to ask her who she was, to which to our surprise she answered
- "fuck"...??
He then noticed she had a web cam thingy (his own to pcs..) so I asked if she had a pic of herself on her msn..
-"ja...helt ok" was the answer, so I told him to right click and see if he could start a web conversation...after a few seconds he said
-" ja, jag tycker att någonting ladda kommer det...hon var fan inte snygg du..."
ahahahahahahaa..this may not write well but it was said well in realtime göteborska...

So I asked him to ask her where she got his address from and where she came from...
-Port Neuf, Canada..
at this point she switched off the webcam..

-fan, en gottigris fyfan från canada, kan inte skriver på engelska iallafall....

awesome, moral of this tale is make sure you know who your chatting with or you may end up with what we term in Scotland, " a pig wi knickerrs"....
Conversation ended with:"
"silken jävla stor cli**a och dvärgen e ju grym när han smiskar sig själv"...the tears are flowing..


Thursday, February 8, 2007

Black and blue thursday..

Too much cough mixture and I'm late again, dammit.still no training through whatever I picked up in this Toxic Tent we call Sweden.
I have argued my case for many years that despite the high standard of living in Sweden I have never been so susceptible to viruses, flu's and everything else that seems to crop up with the fluency of the seasons. And to make things worst the seasons are now corrupted and we seem to have everything starting two months after the fact.
I blame two reasons, first of all the inoculation list is the same size as the doomsday book and kids are given so many injections when they're born that the reverse effect has happened and superbugs have been created to do the mother nature thing and ensure that we have to build anti-bodys. However we now have to have anti-bodys like Robocop.
Second reason is simple, Chernobyl. Thats right people, the superbugs got a dose of kryptonite and got even stronger. I remember I was living in Scotland when the melt down happened and the popular joke was pour a pint of milk in the Highlands and you would pick up Radio One..

Anyway, some rather interesting things have happened today.First of all for reasons that can't be explained, today, thursday 8th 07 will be noted in my calender as "Blue Thursday". Can't say why at this point.

During the coffee break at work we discussed my observations that I wrote yesterday about the thoughts whilst sitting in the bus and most agreed they would make a conservative effort to buy a copy of faktum. A wee step in the right direction.
I decided at the same time that I would enjoy running a charity and making sure the bucks made a difference. So we shall see, its time to make some phone calls, will keep you all updated on this one.I have to admit to have been very interested in this before, but simply not on the home front or human front.More one to save the planet and the tigers /chimps etc. Its worth investigating anyway.

Since my comment in "Single Sunday" regarding, ""She knows or she's just plain stoopid". I have been inundated with questions by pretty much everyone I know who reads this blog asking me who it is.Knowledge is power. The guessing has started and so far it has been quite interesting with some of the sms's and mails I have received. The closest has been:-)
"nu vet jag! du vet inte själv utan funderar på vem det är /blir i framtiden"....interesting.
I've also been threatened by severe abuse and humiliation unless I reveal the culprit...hmm
Now, with all this guessing, accusations and threats would you give up the name? Of course NOT. After all Detective Poiret who suggested I didn't know myself could be right. On the other hand maybe one of those people asking is indeed "da stoopid girl"..maybe I should start looking into selling t-shirts, baseball hats and giving the proceeds to my charity..

To add confusion to the whole day I suddenly got a new player in the story called "Confession guy" who really added drama to Thursday.So maybe we should rename to Black Thursday.


The Gay Boxer part 2

so, now I've arrived and been driven to a town I'd never heard of before in Crete with promises that I'd enjoy as I was "english"...steady there...
It's 0300 in the morning, bag is thrown on the bed, the room isn't as bad as the scouser was making out and the smell hasn't made it that far yet.I'm happy just to have reached part 1 of my destination.
Time to find out what the strip is about that the taxi driver went on about so take a walk.what I came upon was a "Sodom and Gomorrah" in modern times.A sea of drunken Brits all trying to immitade becks and posh with the average age of 17. And for the first time in my life ever, I actually felt too old..You would keep walking down a winding street with hundreds of pubs opened towards the street with people shouting, pointing, dancing, necking and basically trying to impress each other with their plummage under the influence of booze.Each club and pub had invested a ton of money on louder sound sytems and each had their own "theme".The result was as bad as white had to be out on pills and booze to survive this, or 17 years old.i walked down in disbelief , feeling like a parent for the first time, grumbling things to myself and of course completely sober.It was time to get a beer.This in itself took me around 40 minutes as the choices were too multiple and too noisy. I finally sat myself down in a corner of the "Football club"..ironies here I feel.Two for one on the carlsberg.From my outpost for the o.a.p.s (old age pensioners) I scanned. Across the road I was happy to see a place that advertised 24 hour old british comedys shown, Only fools and horses and Porridge..(It would be packed every minute of the day despite the 30 plus degrees..).Reminds me of a telfor speech saying that the worst thing with the Brits abroad was the fact that we despised change, so all we need is fish n chips, all day comedys and snooker halls as well as a bit more sun. nevermind the new cultures, we used to own the world don't you know.So, there I was, wondering when the angels would ask me to leave this sodomy and reign hellfire down on the sodomites, but the only angels around we're the "hell" variety.I sat my ground thinking about a book title, "murder of a pedofil"... still, it was the weirdest thing to start being philisophical surrounded the way I was by a generation that I had completely forgotten about, I had once been the same, except I didn't wear heels and glitter was about getting as hammered as possible and the only responsibilty one had was to ensure that you didn't get arrested and end up getting wrapped up in wet blankets and given a truction beating..It seemed like light years away and I really didn't miss it but realised that maybe it was part of growing up anyway.Learning from mistakes.lets just say for the first time in my life, I really felt what growing up does to you and I almost wanted to go over and tell some people to go home as they had had enough, otherwise they may regret something and have to live with it.
But i didn't, I smiled at the girl collecting the glasses from the table, it was around 5 in the morning and I started the walk back to Hotel "Shitreek".I was happy I'd only paid for a few days and just pondered over the whole days activities, wasn't so long ago I was standing at Arlanda airport talking to someone who I wanted to be with me.Time to crash and look forward to the sun and a slow day tanning.At least that was something to look forwards too and at least I didn't have a wife that turned into a pillar of salt...

When I awoke it was around noon, I rushed out onto the balcony to discover clouds...

to be continued

Does the sofa or the TV have a soul?

We already know people are different, people profiling can be interesting.
Personally, I'm what you'd call a collector..That means I have a hard time throwing anything away, which means living under the same roof can be a problem.

Now, there is a difference between collecting stuff as a hobby and simply not throwing away crap. I was on a course recently about the necessity to clear out mail boxes, throw away old letters and basically cut the crap away, its garanteed to minimize stress and give you a better karma and harmoni..

With this in mind I looked at all my bike magazines in the loft, some reaching back to 1978.
A first edition kerrang magazine with Angus Young voted guitarist of the year, 1981.
Small and large boxes full of paperwork from the 98 world cup from amsterdam, reciepts from pubs from the red light district, old notebooks from pre 85.Broken slr cameras, practika, mamiya, broken flash units, 2000 nuts n bolts, Harley davidson one off pistons with tags from Grass Valley, california..the list goes on and on.

Recently I had to offload a sofa, a tv and a car. It kinda hurt and thats what this peice is about. ceratin people couldn't give a rats.They see it as a step forward.Same people are those smiling at New year, I'm more the nostalgic type that remembers the good times of the previous year.
You see, silly or not everything to me brings backs memories, even the bad ones but mostly the good ones and the sharing of those memories seem to be really strong when its time to throw something out.
As I said, some people have said to me how ridicoulous that is..I believe I may have some Buddism in me then. I mean to say, people talk to their cars when they don't start, typ "please turn over you peice of ..." and of course it has to be a heart wrenching moment when the tv suddenly goes quiet for the first time after a long time.No?

I honestly believe this is the reason behind my problem of throwing things out.I have tried and improved having watched a Dr Phil special on similar freaks when it all goes wrong and they have to send in the experts to clean up the mess.

So, what kind of person are you? Is it to the skip without a shed of emotion or is it a frown, a last pat on the sofa, a last look at the car and papers when you hand it over to the scrappy.Can the 1200kr cover the miles of sitting in solitude, the arguments, the hellos and goodbyes.

Is there a soul, probably not.But I'm sure there is something more than bricks and mortar, sticks and stones and nuts and bolts when its time to retire something you've had for a while.
When I used to sit on my bikes and open them up flat out I used to hit over 250 km. The sound and pressure was hard and the only thing you could hear was what you were thinking and the vibrations through your rear.Many a time you would talk in that helmet when things started moving around a wee bit too took care of them and they repaid you when it mattered with a wee word in the ear, or helmet as it was.

So, what kind of person are you?


Wednesday, February 7, 2007

Egalitarianism..or not as the case may be..

Standing at the Ironsquare tonight, had to wait for 18 minutes for my bus to come along.
Cold chill tonight, temperature dropped to well below. I see a guy walking past and having a look in the bins for bottles or whatever and at the same time a taxi does a u-turn to pick up the regular "lilla lordag" types from "Queers and Steers".

These are the times I start thinking about how much we take things for granted. 18 minutes outside, even with a good jacket on , hat and neck warmer and I still feel relieved that the bus heater has warmed up the bus. Driving in the dark you notice the litup sign boards of the latest Citroen or the new ads for 4 plus with Våga or something..but what about the guy looking through the bins...

People who have been out perhaps , couples and singles alike get on the bus wearing labels and expensive boots, jackets.Mobile phones ringing in and out, mp3's getting plugged in to desensitised craniums..what about the guy rummaging through the bins..

Within a few minutes I start pondering over just how much we do take for granted. I'm not gonna rant and rave on about the homeless, or the alcoholics that have to move from the park.
I just sat on that bus wondering if they ever notice the sign boards, the pretty lights, most of the things we already take for granted.To them (and who is "them??) the last priority must be the ads, the dressed up window at NK . It's just such a different world of prioritys and in a way you have to wonder how and when did it start and if it can be stopped. I'm as guilty as the next guy, its just tonite the 18 minute wait stirred a thought that I brought home with me.

Nothing more, nothing less. Maybe I will buy a copy of faktum the next time I walk past a seller..


The rate of fate

...had a *woe conversation yesterday about fate.

Some people believe in fate and others believe you make your own..which i suppose they also believe in it but don't wait for it to happen.

Few things have happened to me and the coincendences have been pretty amazing. You hear it all the time, the world has gotten smaller but sometimes its beyond the joke.

I'm only gonna touch on this subject just now, as well as the question around Déja Vu. I was given the reason behind this phenomena in a scientific way not so long ago, I still feel its the Matrix having a short circuit.

Lots to write about the two I feel.

*woe is the opposite of wee..a new word created my M.T* and talking of Mit for £16.99 you can also buy a great book, conversations between the Dalai lama and and buddha going head to head in the modern world...

a wee snippet aboot the word "avocado"..

Dont you just love to pick up wee snippets of info that you can dazzle your friends with.

Todays wee snippet is that the name Avocado is derived from the Aztec description of the plant it grows on: the testicle tree..
Originally the size of an olive Avocados were cultivated to be the size we know them today.
The Aztecs called them ahuacacuauhiti. The name was written down as avocado by a brit(Sir hans sloan) in 1699.However, "ahuacacuauhiti" means testicle tree which was very apt as the fruits used to dangle a wee bit.
Monks once deemed the avocado to be a promoter of lust and banned the tree as the spanish conquistadores used them as aphrodisiacs.

So, there you go, better than the tubular , erect and slightly curved fungal genus , which topped with a small protuberance has the latin name of Phallus...

As i said, don't you just love wee snippets..

Tuesday, February 6, 2007

just hangin' with Miss T*

still sick, gettin' pretty boring subject being sick.

Day was saved by a call by Missy T*, the cat in the hat in the flat.

Lots of good stuff today, Kenny Wayne Shepherd CD, "10 days out, blues from the backroads",blues harp waking up Lunden with artists including BBking,Clarence"gatemouth" brown,Honeyboy Edwards, reminds me of days gone by and the "Preservation Hall", within earshot of the 1 oclock gun at Edinburgh Castle where "Blues n' Trouble" used to rock the house to the small wee hours, people dancin' on the tables and not a cocktail in site, or slick back hair.
It all ended when they started putting decibel limiters in the pubs in Edinburgh.

(A wee note that Blues N trouble, a local group went on to be support band to BB king on his British tour and he was later said to say they were the best white blues band he had ever heard.)

Day was filled with sushi buffets, pool halls with more rules than a geometry lesson and a lot of good time conversation. Shops filled with new junk, old junk, loud junk, bright junk, skin creams, The Cream, from stonecakes to stone in jewellery, we counted 7 shops for her and 4 for me.

Time doesn't stand still when your having fun, so the day is nearly ended and just to enhance the black n white experience they decided to show a Hitchcock movie.
Nevermind the story line, admire the directors camera angles and lighting effects.

Last but not least, "who is that stoopid girl" whose walking around not knowing. Kinda annoying huh..
Back to blues harp, a weeks worth of dish and a grin a cheshire cat would be jealous of!

Monday, February 5, 2007

Understanding the Equation of Space..

Over the past couple of months I've heard the comment " I enjoy space", "I need my space" or " you never listened and you never gave me space".. and to be honest, I didn't really get it. Until now.

Of course now it's kapten Efterklok and most things that were hidden in the shadows that we refer to as "misunderstandings" are all very "sticks and stones", however I haven't actually been very good at understanding the concept of Space in this context. I've always been the terrier yapping at the heels for attention on my terms, when its all about me.

So now that I'm living alone and planning to move a Roland digital drum kit into the living room as well as a hobbex speed ball with holder in the hall I'm starting to understand it more.(Or perhaps not. )

Now I liken it to two individual peas in the same pod. If its gonna work long term you have to give the other person the space they need. of course that sounds easy but I reckon its one of the biggest problems in relationships today.
Never one to simply sit at home and twiddle my thumbs I always had training at the gym, rugby training , fixing / riding my bike or surfing the internet as my own space. But this was where my ego and misynderstanding came in, when I wanted attention I expected it and didn't really accept the fact that the other person really needed their own time and space. I looked upon this as a negative, almost an insult.
To contradict myself completely I could also sit in silence with the same person and have no need to say anything or at the same time listen to somebody for hours if necessary. However, this seemed to be on my terms anyway.Not sure if that makes sense and there has been a lot of self reflection to come to my understanding now and I'm fairly sure it has been a step in the right direction.
Looking around this misunderstanding seems to take up a lot of energy as there are a lot of people who mention the same problem. It's all about actually having an understanding of the understanding.
So when your two individual peas living in the same pod, you gonna get to grips with the fact that:
a) your an individual pea with individual needs who requires your own identity
b) within the spectrum of the pod its still gonna be a tight fit and require team work and communication to make it work.

So, unless we start talking about the pod in the same context as quantum mechanics we'd better start understanding the understanding and the equation of space within the pod.
Otherwise the pod splits


Thought provoking films....

From the sofa today and of course in only that way that men can feel as if death is just around the corner with influensa I can recommend two films that left a mark:

"Crash" and "Lost in translation".

(I bet there's been some classic conversations regarding what he whispers in her ear in the last scene of "lost in Translation". )

Blue Monday and Jantes Law (not Jude, no..)

As the Boomtown rats questioned "tell me why I don't like mondays" I'll tell you, I'm still on the sick note despite thinking I'd improved over the weekend.So its a blue monday indeed.

However, just like Oppenheimer a bomb was suddely dropped on my doorstep and yes indeed it was as huge as Oppy dropped in the desert. Jantes Law.Not Jude Law, he's the fugly bloke that all the woman are falling in love with , hence my passion for "Cold Mountain" where he gets shot.

Anyway, back to Jantes Law. This snippet was dropped by me whilst having a chat and it is frightening and yet perhaps the ultimate summary of scandinavia EVER. Now, I've lived on these shores and never seen this before, but it feels like I've just discovered the "Dead Sea Scrolls" all over again, or perhaps just the scrolls that the Vatican stole and hid under their private little city.

So, jantes Law, here we go:-
There are ten different rules in the law, but they are all variations on a single theme and are usually referred to as a homogeneous unit: Don't think you're anyone special or that you're better than us.

The ten rules are:

You shall not think that you are special.
You shall not think that you are of the same standing as us.
You shall not think that you are smarter than us.
Don't fancy yourself as being better than us.
You shall not think that you know more than us.
You shall not think that you are more important than us.
You shall not think that you are good at anything.
You shall not laugh at us.
You shall not think that anyone cares about you.
You shall not think that you can teach us anything.

It sounds like a ritual you'd have upon entering "Livets ord" at the same time you leave your wallet at reception. Seriously, these ten commandments are actually taught in school.Now, they may not be advertised as the best shaver on the market, but the very fact that they are out there speaks volumes and has finally answered many questions regarding the way that conflicts are despised and your not allowed to really show off what you've achieved in anyway
Read those 10 commandments again, sounds like something from "the Village" or more importantly "Scarey movie 4".

Rumour has it that people in this country are cold. Thats unfair to generalise , it's like generalising that the scots are tight. It has to be said though that there is a subconcious truth to those 10 laws that can be reflected in a lot of peoples attitudes. It's almost as if nobody wants to really take the reins and lead as they don't wanna put their hand up and say "I can do it". or even better "I'd be awesome at doing it!". It has nothing to do with humbleness, thats another "egenskap".
Those that are outside of the ten commandments are considered difference and I've heard that people can be very envious in a silent fashion and of course destructive fashion, perhaps this ties in nicely with the 10 C's. I wonder if that was deliberate, if there is a Moses connection from the auther in 33.
Roughly translating the entire 10 leaves you with a kinda concept of "be average or be nothing at all" and that initself would describe a lot of situations I've come across over the past years.
I suppose the question is if its a positive or negative, as there doesn't appear to be any common ground. After all, its called Law..
A good example I can offer up as proof would be the fact that I had such a hard time to find a Captain for rugby sides that I coach. I get players from outside the country lining up to take the position, but otherwise it has been very difficult and I feel it has a lot to do with this melting into the background average way of thinking.

Ironically I was sent this info by a scandinavian who basically meant that this was the case and was indeed very tiresome. Here is what others have written:

The Jante Law has become symbolic of what many see as a permeating cultural code in Sweden, Denmark, and other Nordic countries: it is frowned upon to appear to elevate oneself or claim to be better or smarter than others. Those who assert to the influence of the Jante Law often maintain that the values of the Danish and other Nordic welfare states can be credited to the persistence of the Jante Law, in particular their stress on social equality and their emphasis on fairness for all.
Others point to such traits as protestant work ethic and an early development of a modern central government in the Nordic states. The Jante Law is a product of the agrarian society that existed in Scandinavia until the beginning of the 20th century, where adherence to social norms was necessary to maintain cohesion and stability in the small villages. Due to a fairly recent industrialization compared to many other countries, as well as a general sparse population, Scandinavia has maintained many social aspects of this society, even while being amongst the most modernised regions in the world.
This kind of communal order has been observed in many areas of the world. It has echoes in the attitude towards others in some areas of England, exemplified in sayings such as "Just who does he think he is?". The "tall poppy syndrome" – cutting off the heads of the tallest poppies – is another expression of the idea, and is a prominent phenomenon in Australia and New Zealand. The Jante Law should also be seen in the light of the "smallness" of the individual Nordic nations, which forms an important part of their self-image.
Jante Law can be also seen as the mirror image, and perhaps more pessimistic side of lagomhet. While the Swedish lagom, (Finnish passeli, Norwegian passe, Danish passende) is often translated as "adequate" or "mediocre", there is actually more than that. Being lagom as a person means being one of us; it means being qualified in the team and being just as good as everyone else. The Nordic welfare state expects teamwork and team playing of everyone, "blowing on the same coal". If someone attempts to raise himself above the team or to play solo, he is often frowned upon as a team-breaker. The Jante Law can be interpreted as a reaction on team-breaking and breaking lagomhet. Many regard lagom as a positive thing, as it stresses satisfaction through slight moderation and rationality, though not all hold this view.

I'll let you decide on this one, just now I feel like one of the pilots on the "Enola gay"!

Sunday, February 4, 2007

"Single Sunday"

Ok, so its back to reality and Single sunday evening back in Göteborg after a great weekend in Malmö.
Basically spoilt by all, helped by all and enough punch lines wherein even Cassius Clay would be tired. Here are some of them, which may only be understood by a few but believe me thats few enough;(in no particular order..)
"add this to your blogsite" Smack! a sudden flat hand smack on the back of a shaved head..
"what? you don't mean wrinkledick"..
"puberty, don't worry neil, its coming to you as well"
" that f*cking ugly or f*ckable and ugly?"
"Mr who knows everything.."
"I think she was interested until she saw you dance"...part1 of 2
"Bald men don't dance"..part 4 of many..
"I do gymnastics on the horse.." to my surprise the horse wasn't the wooden type
"they want someone to show their tits on stage...Neil, up you get.."

First of all Friday night I was spoiled with the opportunity of crackin' some tinnies open and discussing rugby till the wee hours. Rugby coaching hypernerds doing what they do best and enjoying every minute. Thanks to the Willanders for all the hospitality.
Saturday was gonna be a day of pub TV and the kick off with France troucing Italy and England routing the Scots.Too bad,enjoyable games and great to meet up with players that I'm fortunate to coach at National level taking the time to buy us a pint. H.E, we need you!

The party that ensued had a great mix of people and between the mix of beer and Martini, Cranium and conversation things flowed well. I met some great characters to say the least who first and foremost will remain nameless and whose conversation must also remain secret due to the threats made if all would be revieled..Fun was had and laughing became our language for many hours. Not sure how many times I was slapped on the back of the head but I started feeling like Mo from the Three Stooges.Hopefully we'll meet soon again.To those "Black Widows" I wish you the best and stay in contact..Who was Costanza? We found seinfeld, elaine, kramer (!!) and Neuman was voted on..

Niteclub.Q. We lose one to walk her dog.
Ok, so I never dance due to a bald spot called my head but its a birthday so its a sacrifice and credibility, if there was any to begin with, suddenly became a neutral country.The blog could be renamed to "The One's that got away"..see above
Bad music, good company and finally saved to a discussion in a back bar with the same road crew from the party, having watched some interesting plummage showing by the locals to the crowd I was with.I was offered several times by L* if I wanted her to help me to get introduced to the spied talent.err...nej tack.Memories of the school disco came like another Mo slap.

To be honest that part is already taken up by someone else who is still on my mind so just now its just eye candy and no money to buy the sweeties.Just like the disappearence of Jimmy Hoffa and the magic bullet of JFK case study, somethings just can't be revealed just now.Although I do get the idea that the info I carry will end up like the last part of "bridges over Madison County" with the inevitabilty that no one in the drama will ever understand the interest and only end up with regrets. I realise I sound like the riddler from the early versions of "Batman" but maybe thats just as a well. "She knows or she's just plain stoopid".

It was too late to get back to base camp so I ended up on a couch purchased from the props section from "Gullivers Travels".

Sunday was the trip back to Göteborg after a brunch at a nice local cafe where the conversation was concentrated around stories of vomit and good times.I hope we didn't ruin anyones Baguette..

When it was time to say farewell I have to admit to feeling something in the air when it was time for the twins to say farewell for this time after their celebration of birth.Of course its fairly obvious, however there just seemed more genuineness and profoundness in their embrace and it seemed felt around the group awaiting. Hard to put to words and indeed nothing was said between them, just a knowledge that they would always be there for each other perhaps more than any of us would be there for anyone else.The density of the air seemed to thicken for a split second and then was gone.I suppose you had to be there looking from the outside in.A Grace under pressure perhaps.

Road trip was over. Back to reality after some thai food at mine with the question asked "how come you girls need so many toilet stops" with the answer being:" cos we have small bladders which is why you guys piss smells so badly"..Once again "consumption conversations" are questionable, however interesting..

A huge thanks to all those persons who took the time to shake hands, converse, be polite and be genuine.A production like this is always a memory and thats what you take with you at the end of the day when your numbers up and despite my years I'm learning from you all.

Back to Single sunday, Lars Winnerbäck and "Jag är hos dig igen" and the question,
should I pop some corn and watch Superbowl? And why is my left knee sore again? Must have been the sad and pitiful booty shaking....