Thursday, September 22, 2005
Sweet demonstrations
In a country forged by fire an evil power has risen. It’s name is disrespect for Mother Nature and it has several dominions. The Icelandic government is the main force of evil, peddling our unspoiled highlands for 30 pieces of silver. The highlands are, oops, let me rephrase, were the largest untouched piece of nature in Europe. They are no longer; the highest dam in Europe is rising in the midst of the breathtaking scenery. Huge bulldozers are, as we speak, ripping at the magnificent mountains and dumping the carcasses of these same mountains into one of the amazing canyons in the Northern hemisphere. A canyon dug out by a vast glacier, formed in thousands of years will be utterly destroyed by the year 2007. Our highlands are being annihilated to build a “nature friendly” semi-sustainable hydro power station and the cheap electricity is being sold to the new Alcoa aluminium factory. The reservoir alone is 57 km2 and the affected area covers 1% of my country. Several species of flora and fauna are endangered because of this process. The breeding area of reindeers, seals, pink-footed geese and many other animals have been destroyed… triple hurray for that! My government is quite proud of this achievement and the multinational company, Alcoa, gloats at the stupidity of the “greedy Eskimos”. Bechtel, the company in charge of the re-building of Iraq are also constructing the Alcoa smelter and they must be cheerful as well, since aluminium is used for making weapons of war which are necessary in order to help President Bush restrain those crazy and unruly Arabs…
It is sad coming home to face the greed and ignorance of many of my fellow countrymen. I felt a need to do something about it, so I got my butt out of bed early this morning and went downtown to demonstrate at an international aluminium conference. It was really interesting, philanthropists and nature lovers seem to cause panic among the police (there were more cops than demonstrators) and especially among the average ignorant pencil pusher. I was standing outside the conference hall handing out postcards showing endangered animals to people attending the conference and a crazy hotel manager (the conference takes place at Nordica Hotel) starting screaming at me. I swear the guy was about to grab my postcards and drag me away, which I kind of wish he would have done because then I could have pressed charges, but I was so shocked that I asked him if he really wanted to attack me. The guy seemed likewise shocked by my question and calmed down a bit, but still continued screaming at me to get the hell out of there and so forth. I lived with a lawyer for years so I know my rights and now we are in the process of talking to the media about how the freedom of speech is non-existent in this banana republic. It is incredible how people react to peaceful demonstrations. It is all quite exiting and I am looking forward to a big demonstration tonight. Look it up at http://inca.is/
Hasta la Victoria Siempre!
Che Björk- the dangerous protestor
It is sad coming home to face the greed and ignorance of many of my fellow countrymen. I felt a need to do something about it, so I got my butt out of bed early this morning and went downtown to demonstrate at an international aluminium conference. It was really interesting, philanthropists and nature lovers seem to cause panic among the police (there were more cops than demonstrators) and especially among the average ignorant pencil pusher. I was standing outside the conference hall handing out postcards showing endangered animals to people attending the conference and a crazy hotel manager (the conference takes place at Nordica Hotel) starting screaming at me. I swear the guy was about to grab my postcards and drag me away, which I kind of wish he would have done because then I could have pressed charges, but I was so shocked that I asked him if he really wanted to attack me. The guy seemed likewise shocked by my question and calmed down a bit, but still continued screaming at me to get the hell out of there and so forth. I lived with a lawyer for years so I know my rights and now we are in the process of talking to the media about how the freedom of speech is non-existent in this banana republic. It is incredible how people react to peaceful demonstrations. It is all quite exiting and I am looking forward to a big demonstration tonight. Look it up at http://inca.is/
Hasta la Victoria Siempre!
Che Björk- the dangerous protestor
An English farewell
Dear friends
From now on my blog will be in a “modernized” version of Icelandic, i.e. English. Although Shakespeare himself probably would have been able to understand my language, at least parts of it, I fear that modern English speakers have lost the fine art of comprehending the roots of their lingo, except for classic words such as saga and geyser, which everyone knows are two of the finest words of the English language...
I have been to many places since I last saw most of you in St Andy’s. My first stop was the wonderful city of Madrid or Madilli as the Chinese call it. I was accompanied by a native, our own crazy Spaniard, Aro. I cannot share much of that experience here, since my native guide threatened to “dress my entire family in black” if I would reveal the secrets of the city. She took me to all the sites uncontaminated by “filthy” tourists. I am therefore in trouble if, say a Dutchman stumbles upon one of those cult bars…sorry mummy! All I can say is pretty fucking great and I’ll be back (a la Schwarzenegger).
I then visited the fascinating city of Londres, where I had a errr, sort of an English guide with a Southern hemisphere twist- thanks Stu. I saw not-as-big-as-I-thought-Benjamin, Downer Street where the evil troll Tony Blair-witch and his orcs reside, Must-have-cost-a-Buck-ingham-palace and other places of which I honestly don’t remember the names. My second night in Londres I had another guide, this one wasn’t English either, but nevertheless took me to the local pub, where the service was excellent. It didn’t start very well though, because 5 minutes after we arrived, a Rastafarian looking dude, spilled our super expensive Cronenbourg Blanc (3,50 quid a pint but worth it, yummy…) all over us. The good thing was that we got free drinks afterwards and the owner even kissed my hand after I returned from the toilet. Very friendly breed indeed those Londoners. I went shopping in Camden the next day, which was interesting since I didn’t have any money… Wound up on top of Primrose Hill, desperately seeking Jude Law. The little bastard naturally wasn’t there, probably off errrr, “training” his new nanny.
Later that day, I had to say bye-bye to Britain and had England’s “finest” bidding me farewell. I must explain I took a train with some of the most unfortunate Brits good old England has to offer. Let me see, there was the nice looking blonde, reading a book- but when she looked over the book, I saw she was in fact not so-nice-looking after all and she gave me a look that would freeze even that torch guy from the Fantastic Four. Kind of reminded me of a transvestite plastic surgery gone bad, but nice legs anyway. Then there was the pleasant looking lady sitting next to me, which turned out to have hmmm breasts that gravity had pulled down to her hips. She wore nice wedges, but started scratching her feet and the most horrible sour smell came out from the scratched areas… Last, but not least, there was the young businessman who was a chronic nose-picker. We’re talking about serious digging action here, even Olympic scale. When he finally stopped picking his nose and examining every chunk of hmm nose-extract, he starting digging his fingers into his ears moving the ear-jam over to his trousers and from there he brushed the entire lot on to the floor of the train with his fingers. The only normal looking person there was the young-kind-of-cute sleeping guy, who ultimately started drooling. It was unreal! I believe, her majesty Lizzie 2, must have sent her special, “don’t ever come back” squad to see me off. I had been really sad about leaving London, but the train-gang made me think that maybe it was better to go home after all, he he. Too cut a long story short I knew I was home when I looked out the airplane window and saw the Aurora Borealis bathing the plane in an eerie fluorescent light. The dancing green lights of the Arctic sky bid me welcome home and reminded me that we have a unique nature on the little island in the middle of the North Atlantic, the reason why I started studying Environmental History in the first place.
Ciao darlings
From now on my blog will be in a “modernized” version of Icelandic, i.e. English. Although Shakespeare himself probably would have been able to understand my language, at least parts of it, I fear that modern English speakers have lost the fine art of comprehending the roots of their lingo, except for classic words such as saga and geyser, which everyone knows are two of the finest words of the English language...
I have been to many places since I last saw most of you in St Andy’s. My first stop was the wonderful city of Madrid or Madilli as the Chinese call it. I was accompanied by a native, our own crazy Spaniard, Aro. I cannot share much of that experience here, since my native guide threatened to “dress my entire family in black” if I would reveal the secrets of the city. She took me to all the sites uncontaminated by “filthy” tourists. I am therefore in trouble if, say a Dutchman stumbles upon one of those cult bars…sorry mummy! All I can say is pretty fucking great and I’ll be back (a la Schwarzenegger).
I then visited the fascinating city of Londres, where I had a errr, sort of an English guide with a Southern hemisphere twist- thanks Stu. I saw not-as-big-as-I-thought-Benjamin, Downer Street where the evil troll Tony Blair-witch and his orcs reside, Must-have-cost-a-Buck-ingham-palace and other places of which I honestly don’t remember the names. My second night in Londres I had another guide, this one wasn’t English either, but nevertheless took me to the local pub, where the service was excellent. It didn’t start very well though, because 5 minutes after we arrived, a Rastafarian looking dude, spilled our super expensive Cronenbourg Blanc (3,50 quid a pint but worth it, yummy…) all over us. The good thing was that we got free drinks afterwards and the owner even kissed my hand after I returned from the toilet. Very friendly breed indeed those Londoners. I went shopping in Camden the next day, which was interesting since I didn’t have any money… Wound up on top of Primrose Hill, desperately seeking Jude Law. The little bastard naturally wasn’t there, probably off errrr, “training” his new nanny.
Later that day, I had to say bye-bye to Britain and had England’s “finest” bidding me farewell. I must explain I took a train with some of the most unfortunate Brits good old England has to offer. Let me see, there was the nice looking blonde, reading a book- but when she looked over the book, I saw she was in fact not so-nice-looking after all and she gave me a look that would freeze even that torch guy from the Fantastic Four. Kind of reminded me of a transvestite plastic surgery gone bad, but nice legs anyway. Then there was the pleasant looking lady sitting next to me, which turned out to have hmmm breasts that gravity had pulled down to her hips. She wore nice wedges, but started scratching her feet and the most horrible sour smell came out from the scratched areas… Last, but not least, there was the young businessman who was a chronic nose-picker. We’re talking about serious digging action here, even Olympic scale. When he finally stopped picking his nose and examining every chunk of hmm nose-extract, he starting digging his fingers into his ears moving the ear-jam over to his trousers and from there he brushed the entire lot on to the floor of the train with his fingers. The only normal looking person there was the young-kind-of-cute sleeping guy, who ultimately started drooling. It was unreal! I believe, her majesty Lizzie 2, must have sent her special, “don’t ever come back” squad to see me off. I had been really sad about leaving London, but the train-gang made me think that maybe it was better to go home after all, he he. Too cut a long story short I knew I was home when I looked out the airplane window and saw the Aurora Borealis bathing the plane in an eerie fluorescent light. The dancing green lights of the Arctic sky bid me welcome home and reminded me that we have a unique nature on the little island in the middle of the North Atlantic, the reason why I started studying Environmental History in the first place.
Ciao darlings
