HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Happy new year, everyone! We're off to party like it's 1999.
Godt nyttår, og takk for det gamle.
Happy new year, everyone! We're off to party like it's 1999.
If you're not familiar with the recently deceased Susan Sontag, or if you are, but want to read more, I suggest you have a look at the New York Times memorial page to her. They have a lot of her writing there, and articles and reviews about and of her work. A highlight is a fantastic essay she wrote last May about Abu Ghraib and the photographs from there, called Regarding the Torture of Others.
I'm sort of casually sitting at my kitchen table writing this, not in the living room where the access point is. Long extension cables, you think? No! I'll be submitting it through my wireless network. No more horrible tumbleweed-style wire nests on the floor! Hooray!
An overnight blog coordinating info on the tsunami has popped up:
How you can help
1. Please pass this URL around.
2. You can use THE COMMENTS SECTION OF THIS POST to post any info you have on:where to send money,what kind of help is needed,aid organisations,helplines,infolines,email addresses,phone numbersnews updates
3. If you're a blogger, and would like to help us out by taking up posting duties, the same post has email addresses of the current contributors who can send you a blogger invitation. It would be nice having people around the world taking this up in shifts.
Susan Sontag is dead. She died of leukemia earlier today, age 71. I only just started reading her less than a year ago, and now she's dead. This is what caught my fancy: Against Interpretation. A fantastic essay.
To the guy in Peru who came to my site because I happened to use the Spanish word for paedophile on the same page as some words which you don't want the word "child" to be associated with, I would like to say:
And, in case you don't know what I look like, and would like to, that's me over on Ragnfrids blog.
Når jeg har vært under intenst stress, f.eks. etter slåsskamper, bilulykker eller de verste eksamener (ikke at det er noe jeg opplever ofte), så blir mitt minne av begivenheten ofte svært fragmentarisk og usammenhengende. Ofte bare noen få nøkkelhendelser sitter igjen, og så gjerne noen mystiske fragmenter som ikke passer inn noe sted. Derfor vil jeg gjengi gårsdagens julehandel i denne, litt sånn snapshot-aktige formen.
Både VG, Dagbladet og BA har store oppslag på førstesiden idag som omhandler folk som mirakuløst har overlevd kriser og blitt lykkelige igjen. Jeg ser for meg redaksjonsmøtet:
Ok, Susanne tells me postmodernism isn't dead. Postmodernism lives! You heard it here first. Pass it on.
My curiosity is killing me: "Skin" by Shelley Jackson. One word tattooed on one person. 2095 words in the entire story. I've been hearing about this thing for months, maybe years, and I've been dying to read the whole thing, but only participants, it seems, will ever get to read the whole thing. I like the writing in this New York Times piece on it:
For others, the motives are social: Jackson is encouraging her far-flung words to get to know each other via e-mail, telephone, even in person. (Imagine the possibilities. A sentence getting together for dinner. A paragraph having a party.)
(...) when a participant meets his or her demise, Jackson vows, she will try to attend that person's funeral. But the 41-year-old author understands that some of her 2,095 collaborators, many of whom are in their 20's, might outlive her. If she dies first, she says, she hopes several of them will come to her funeral and make her the first writer ever to be mourned by her words.
Jeg må ha postet mens jeg skrev ved et uhell. Vet ikke hvordan det skjedde, men det er totalt pomo, så jeg lar det stå slik.
Jeg snakket i søvne, ble vekket av en imaginær ringeklokke. Våknet først helt, idet jeg stod med dørtelefonen i hånden og sa "hallo" til en tom 6-om-morgenen-gate. Sjanglet tilbake i seng, men kunne ikke sove fordi det stod to russere på min balkong og snakket høylydt. Kort tid etter begynte boringen i veggene.
Sorry I haven't been posting for the past few days. I've been trying and failing to combat a completely crippling virus attack which tied my computer into knots and ran loops around it. At the end, the system was so overloaded with unnecessary processes, that the final virus scan which identified the last files to kill off took 74 hours. I found not one, not two, but three different viruses. Little fuckers. Your ass is MINE, now, biatches.
Remember how I mentioned Gerald Allen? The republican from Alabama who proposes a law banning positive renditions of homosexuality in state sponsored...well, anything? The Guardian has interviewed him. It's a funny piece. Starts out with the usual introduction and review of his opinions with the very slight editorial slant we've come to expect from Europe's leading left-leaning newspaper. Then it just gets more and more hysterically opposed to him, quoting him directly to show how inarticulate and unknowledgeable he is, and hints more than a little that Allen is himself a closet homosexual:
I ask him, again, for specific examples. Although heterosexuals are apparently an endangered species in Alabama, and although Allen is a local politician who lives a couple miles from my house, he can't produce any local examples. "Go on the internet," he recommends. "Some time when you've got a week to spare," he jokes, "just go on the internet. You'll see."
Actually, I go on the internet every day. But I'm obviously searching for different things. For Allen, the web is just the largest repository in history of urban myths. The internet is even better than the Bible when it comes to spreading unverifiable, unrefutable stories. And urban myths are political realities. Remember, it was an urban myth (an invented court case about a sex education teacher gang-raped by her own students who, when she protested, laughed and said: "But we're just doing what you taught us!") that all but killed sex education in America.
Forty years ago, the American defenders of "our culture" and "traditional values" were opposing racial integration. Now, no politician would dare attack Cornelius Carter [a famous gay choreographer also profiled in the article] for being black. But it's perfectly acceptable to discriminate against people for what they do in bed.
"Dig a hole," Gerald Allen recommends, "and dump them in it."
Of course, Allen was talking about books. He was just talking about books. He never said anything about pink triangles.
William Gibson quotes a very beautiful poem in his blog today. It's by a poet I have to confess I haven't heard of. His name is W.S. Mervin, and the poem, which appears to be about the Vietnam War, is called The Asians Dying.
Teksten som har fått meg til å le mest de siste par dager (til tross for en graverende ord delings feil i tittelen, for det heter jo selvsagt vidvinkelstev, ikke vidvinkel stev):
Jeg tror ikke helt at jeg fikk dette til å henge på greip, men jeg publiserer det nå uansett. Det er for tidlig på morgenen til å tenke tunge tanker. Skal kanskje jobbe mer med det senere.
Well... that was the most fun I've had reading a web page in ages. Too bad I couldn't possibly link to it.
Let me just, as an aside here, say that I am so happy the Ukrainean crisis seems to have been resolved. I'm happy because for the first time in the history of the former USSR, a judicial body showed integrity. I'm happy because I haven't seen such a powerful will to democracy in a long, long time, and it was clearly time for it in Ukraine. I'm happy that US-Russia tensions have a chance at being resolved, because for a moment there, I thought we were going back to cold war status. But mostly, I'm happy because the people finally seem to have understood the rule that "anyone who is trying to keep the vote from being properly implemented is per definition not your friend." I don't understand that certain other countries of considerably greater size and relative democratic proficiency are having trouble understanding this.
Finally! After nearly four months in computer lab hell, a hardline to the internet in the privacy of our very own home!
A screensaver which overloads spam sites, causing them to lose money due to bandwidth problems. Very interesting. If this works, the world will be a better place.
Jeg friker alltid ut når jeg innser at folk googler navnet mitt. Finnes det folk derute som (... gisp!) tenker på meg? Når jeg ikke er tilstede?
MONTGOMERY - An Alabama lawmaker who sought to ban gay marriages now wants to ban novels with gay characters from public libraries, including university libraries.
A bill by Rep. Gerald Allen, R-Cottondale, would prohibit the use of public funds for "the purchase of textbooks or library materials that recognize or promote homosexuality as an acceptable lifestyle." Allen said he filed the bill to protect children from the "homosexual agenda."
[Margaret Thatcher] let a clause pass into law that her chief minister for Local Government described as being aimed at banishing all trace of homosexuality : The act itself, all gay relationships, even the abstract concept would be gone, a word torn from the dictionary.