And what will Lindsay Lohan think?

For months now, I have, from time to time, been detecting an ill-boding and unidentifiable smell. Since I cannot seem to find its source I have had to assume it stems from me, and possibly from the back of my head. This because I cannot reach there with my nose and thus not exclude the possibility that it is in fact the back of my head that smells. I am just waiting for someone, somewhere, someday to give me an awkward look and a “Hey, I think the back of your head is rotting.” And I will have no other choice but to reply with an “I know. It’s been going on for months.” And at that point, I won’t exactly be lying. In a way, it might even be relieving.

But until that fatal day when the world is exposed to my rotting skull once and for all, I will make sure to wear my beret whenever I go out. Naturally, I curse the spring heat.

Music: LCD Soundsystem - Drunk Girls

Om du var vaken, skulle jag GE dig!

I currently obsess over the band Kite and my approaching midnight deadline. It's an OK combination. That time when I obsessed over cheese and jelly candy was a much worse combination, according to some. Or that time when I obsessed over having my left foot removed in combination with buying leftover right shoes to some highly affordable prices.

Anyway, the above video is to be watched as a tribute to me and tiny's dream version of our time in Paris back in spring -07, with the introducing line "wake up, you fucking dyke".

Rot.

...
I indirectly blame Ape's recurrent, delirious and positively outstanding Cara/Kahlan subtext-posts for my somehow coming across and enjoying this song and video. But seriously. How is one supposed to be able to study when there is so much YouTube filth to surf!?

I'll live my next life as a male Bollywood star

And if I'm not able to pull off those moves (1:25, 1:56, 3:33, 3:45 etc.) plan B is to become a dancing Indian condom.

Alive. How about you?

And a random youtube post, because I am too tired to do anything else. So so tired. So tired I had a religious experience watching the Voyager intro. Yeah, that's how tired I am. However I do feel like I should update a little. Sorta let people know what I'm up to lately. When I'm not so tired I become religious that is.

I'm having a fictional love affair with the Old Spice Man and his horse. I'm also infatuated with the music to this trailer and Tabrett Bethell.

And in my spare time I am Sire Gork who finds the idea of a book of Mormon battles hilarious, but does approve of boffer swords.
In what little time there is left I'm reliving pubertal memories in the form of blonde borgs, unitards and just generally loving the Star Trek universe.

And you? Can you sum up your life with the aid of youtube?

An Ideal.

Looking back at our two creations I can't help feel as if there is something missing to our poetry, besides style and reason. I think we're missing the secret ingredient. While we ponder this I shall leave you with a little something...an ideal perhaps?

And this is where I'll stay

Today’s question: Is irony just a way of getting away with being stupid? And do ironic representations in popular culture do good or bad? Black Eyed Peas’ music video for Meet Me Halfway is today’s object of analysis. Watch it:



With a title like Meet Me Halfway, one would think that they should put an equally large effort in getting to each other. But no.

To start with, throughout the video, the Man is depicted as several indivduals. The Man is as versatile as he is active. He conquers nature in what feels like countless ways; he rides an elephant (domestication of animals!), he reads maps (literacy!), he goes to space and he uses various tracking devices (modern science and gold-digging!). Clearly, he’s a Man with a plan and he has the know-how and the determination to get where he wants.

Meanwhile, the Woman, one body, one individual, placed in Nature, doesn’t seem to make any effort whatsoever of getting her halfway to the Man. Her job is to lie passive on a tree trunk, surrounded by flowers and magical mist, gently carressing her body while keeping her legs together (she’s holding out!). And when she claims that “I can’t go any further than this” she has successfully managed to crawl on the ground a distance of… nowhere. She is not only placed in nature, she IS nature, wating to be conquered. All he needs is a location, and to get there first. All she needs is to wait.

In conclusion, and since no one else seems to hang around this blog, I guess I should answer my own questions. But I won't. I don't know if I should laugh with them, at them or cry because of the unoriginal/ironic depictions of Man/Woman. No. Instead I shall watch it again and now focus on why the elephant is wearing black and how that is possibly related to chocolate. Hej.

One of these days, honey...

This blog is dangerously close to being put on ice. A highly defrostable ice-state. But ice, nonetheless. We will hold it wide open during the “put your year in pictures-project” but come January and we’re still experiencing blog post desert this blog will be put on hold. Outspoken abstinence might encourage creativity. In any case, it will be an experiment worth trying.

Until that day, I will keep on living my life as I know it. Lately, I can’t seem to walk anywhere without imagining myself falling. Everything I walk by that looks stumble-worthy; a sidewalk; a rock; a small child, I picture myself tripping over, falling headlong, dropping everything I hold in my hands, leaving my body spread out on the street as an animal shot. People stare and I usually hurt myself badly. By the time I reach the imaginary hospital, I have since long passed the initial obstacle on my way to wherever. And in between, I imagine walking into signs, and tree branches, only to destroy my eyes by ripping out the cornea. My dad, who earlier this year underwent eye surgery, claims that the cornea is one of the most pain sensitive areas on your body.

Other than that, I spend hours each day reading about sexual violence, mostly in the form of rape. Rape in woods, rape at home, rape in history, rape today and rape as an instrument of war. Some days, I take lonely walks in the dark. Funny thing is, I never do my mental falls when it’s dark, which is more or less obvious, since all the obstacles are hidden in darkness and I am busy contemplating sexual abuse.

Today's music: The New Pornographers

Instead of Lindsay Lohan's take on nipple tassels...

After a hard day’s work in school, I find it highly rewarding listening to this song. Because, contrary to facts, it makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something. Bryan Ferry might not be the prettiest puppy in the petshop, but his voice IS smoother than sunshine. And since the sun’s been hiding its ass for over a week now, Roxy Music is my substitute.

On a darker note, Halloween’s coming up and I might’ve promised hosting some kind of black-spandex-red-lips party. Somehow, I find that thought highly depressing right now. But that’s probably just my heavy workload talking. Can anyone be so kind as to inform me of the cancelability of that specific event?

And finally, tiny, remember that time when we were at that awfully trendy club somewhere close to Champs Elysées and that horrible guard insinuated that my awesome dress was too coat-y, simply by asking if it was a coat and if so advised me to hand it in to the wardrobe? And I was like Man, me and my dress are are as coat-y as this place is ghey! Of course I didn’t say that. What does that even mean? No. Instead, I felt strangely exposed, almost naked, when naturally, I should‘ve felt the opposite. But - and here’s my point - apparently this kind of conformist shit happens to other people as well. And I swear, I didn't even wear turtleneck that specific night.

Mer musik.

Yesterday I learned that apparently, I drink more alcohol than 63% of the Swedish population.

Today I learned that Patrick Wolf has released a new album AND that he can pull off blonde. Am I late?

Tomorrow I will learn about Poland. And how they can't pull off the blonde.

Does it really anti-matter?

Today’s important public announcement concerns our joint gmail account and it comes in three parts, 1) We still have one, 2) it’s still working and 3) Butters and Mariah Carey.

On a brighter note, we sent a fan mail to the people of 3way, the web series. Fortunately, we made it not at all sound like a death threat. Which is talented, coming from us.

That is that. We now move on. No weaknesses.

It's okay. He's just admiring the shape of your skull.

This has been sort of a bad day. Why? My king-size, super nice glass frame lost its grip and fell and broke and now my wall looks nude. And if my home is wrecked (although mildly) my soul is too. I feel like throwing myself on the floor, in fetal position, and with my head as a center start spinning on the floor, kicking myself around with the help of my feet. Faster, and faster. In theory, it would look cool and give me much comfort. But I lack the muscles needed for such an exercise. Instead I read up on nationalism, and listen to The National. An unintended combination, I swear. But I have got to say, Benedict Anderson’s theory of the nation as an imagined community goes pretty well with The National’s “Fake Empire”. Once again, my unconscious genius outshines everybody’s shoeshine. But to what good? The below posted video is pretentious. It shares many features with the music video Stewie Griffin made to impress on Joe and Bonnie’s newborn. But as I am as drawn to pretentiousness as flies are to malnourished children I will not refrain from posting it. Because this is how I feel when something falls and breaks. In my home. A Monday afternoon.

Ledsen för attacken. Jag mår bättre nu.

Jag förespråkar dock fortfarande diskret hemmaträning.

3 years and this could be us.

And related through the six degrees of YouTube separation, I am absolutely in love with this song; Willis - Word Up (damn spotify for not having it)

"never felt this way before"

I don't even like marriages, and I can't dance, but there is something strangely endearing about this vid. I like how they just go with it, just let loose. It's horribly pretentious, but on some level it feels like they know it. Still they do it.

And is it horribly wrong to keep imagining this as Lolly's wedding? Glen dressed up in white and the odds supporting him as Lolly raises her arms and him above her head.

I've got nothing.

Men jag tror jag måste gå till tandläkarn så nu önskar jag att Dr Alban var min tandläkare. Jag tror jag ska kall min läkare Alban och låtsas lite.

"free-lance cheese cutter by trade" & random lesbians

The lesbians showed me love by featuring my blog, so now I shall return the love and feature the lesbians.



And to make this summer a little bit perfect the 3Way gang have now posted an actual "full" episode of Ladycops. It is so perfect and filled with meta and cross-geeking that you hardly know what to do with yourself, other than to smile widely.

Summer of Discomfort Summary, Part 1

So here we are, midsummer and I’m still alive. I’m not doing much though, I’m working, full-time. It’s a strange experience, but also strangely satisfying. Seeing how all you other guyses have kept me up to speed with what you are doing I thought I'd return the favour, this is my virtual postcard to you.

So far this summer has consisted of;

YouTube love:
21 and 24 Gear Up (as a matter of fact large parts of the summer has been spent recreating this scene on messenger)
Angels (HD has never looked as good as it does in this brilliant manipulation)
Dee Snider on censorship (this is what I strive to be)
Hero. (Childhood)

Listening to:
Amadou & Mariam – The Magic Couple
Gossip – Music For Men
Snow Patrol – Run - Revised Album Version
Various Artists – New Orleans Jazz Of The 1920s

Reading:
Queer Theology ed. Gerard Loughlin
Crip Theory ed. Robert McRuer

Temptations:
8-bit tie
Soundtrack Shirt
Free Time Watch
Andy Richter Controls the Universe
The Venture Bros. - season 2
Squirrelly T-shirt

When it comes to the discomfort I’m actually doing good. I’ve engaged in some anger, which is not a usual feeling for me to revel in and I’m doing far too well with the angry queer thing (to the extent that I found Ice Age 3 troubling). I am also about to spend a lot of money on pointless gadgets/t-shirts. However when it comes to clean, I am still going with the whole fresh theme so I guess I'm failing there.

All in all a very interesting summer so far. Stay tuned for part 2, it should be here some time mid-August.

Gone fishing.

I will go away today. I am going south and I will be back sometime in August. You will probably flourish while I’m gone. See the world in another light. Maybe it will seem brighter. Eventually, you might even think that I’ve been smothering you and you will begin to dread my return. But know this! No one sees you like I see you. People love you, no doubt. But I look at you and I see diamonds, I see clusters of stars brightly shining and I dare bask in the beauty of it. Cut me out and you are left a mere mortal; ignore me and you black out a part of yourself.

Miss me, as I shall miss you.

Finally, do not listen to people with split tongues. Their words are not exactly lies, but nor can they possibly speak the truth. And for God’s sake: floss, even though it’s summer. Libidoly speaking, tooth decay is a hundred times more destructive than a split tongue.

That is all.

No, wait, a donkeymentary. The "Mr Bush" featured in the clip once hired J to work as a chicken dealer and is currently a member of the parliament.

Public Announcement.

Instead of Alive, this week we'll have a small public announcement.