Thanks to Samantha Smith for taking this great photo of my 23rd birthday party. That cake was amazing. |
mandag, april 08, 2013
Old man's birthday
tirsdag, februar 14, 2012
Stray, little Valentine
The most annoying thing about Valentine's Day isn't the massive consumerism, the tacky things you’re expected to buy or the nauseously sweet couples everywhere reminding you of just how long you’ve been single. The most annoying thing about Valentine’s Day is trying to ignore it while the majority of people use all their time and energy to tell everybody else how little they care about Valentine’s Day.
It was an old post, one that I had read a long time ago. But I had forgotten it and was at that time expecting to post something about the stupidity of St. Valentine’s Day on Facebook (as usual). The post therefore made me feel rather guilty and I decided to do exactly what it said I should do: To ignore St. Valentine’s Day in silence.
That proved to be surprisingly easy throughout most of the day. I live and work in Annecy, France and it seems as if the tradition of roses, love letters and heart shaped chocolates has not arrived here. There was cake at work, but that was just because my co-workers are awesome, not because the day was anything special. Neither was there anything special about Valentine’s Day at the gym this evening. I was expecting at least an “A Valentine’s gift that keeps giving – get your loved one a Visaform membership today”, but no, there was nothing. In fact, sitting here and analysing my day, I did not even notice any Valentine’s adverts while walking through the central shopping street either today. Truly, St. Valentine’s Day was not at all difficult to ignore.
It should be noted that in saying “ignoring” I am not referring to completely banishing St. Valentine’s Day to the depth of oblivion. I was all the time aware of the fact that today was the 14th of February, aka Valentine’s Day. I simply ignored it the way most people ignore 3rd of September (the day WWII started), Ramadan or the American National day: you might know it’s there, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to make a fuss about it (note: when I say “most people” I refer to the non-Muslims and non-Americans as is percentage of the world’s 7 billion people. I’m not trying to offend anyone, just making an educated assumption. Don’t worry though; I’m sure no one will be offended if you guys don’t care about the national day of Norway or Christ’s Ascension either). Still, it was rather strange not to have been exposed to ANY signs of Valentine’s Day. I guess two years in the UK really had set its mark.
Ignoring the date did however come to an abrupt end as I visited Facebook. The site itself had taken the liberty of finding all the St. Valentine’s comments from my “friends” so I could go through them in one batch (That was actually pretty neat. A pat on the back for you, Zuckerberg). The comments were often exactly the kinds the Oatmeal had been so critical to; criticising the tradition as a capitalistic abomination or just stupid. There were those who liked it, but the negative comments did make a much stronger impression.
All those comments made me decide to defend the tradition. I do not know if it was due to an inner need to go against the flow, if it was so that I could set myself as intellectually superior to the masses or if I all in all like Valentine’s Day. Never the less, here I am, writing this post.
I don’t know much about St. Valentine’s Day and for once I’m not going to read the Wikipedia article before writing the blog-post. All I know is this: At the centre of St. Valentine’s Day as I know it, there is love. Yes, it sounds really corny, but there it is. It would have been great if love was all around all the time, but it’s not. We’re often too busy to realise how much we love someone and we have even less time to show them how much we care. In that sense St. Valentine’s Day is nice. It reminds us of the fact that there is love out there and celebrates the greatness of love.
But there are other traditions that do just that. Christmas is one of those; God loved us all so much that he sacrificed his son so that we should live eternal. We are supposed to get together with our loved ones and celebrate how great it is love and to be loved. For if God could do so much to us all, the least we can do is to try loving each other this once a year. But it’s not just us Christians who celebrate Christmas. Atheists and agnostics might not believe in the religious principles of Christmas, but they can accept the message of love. The tradition has become secularised, being only a season of love for those that does not care about Jesus.
Christmas is also the greatest celebration of capitalism and consumerism there is. The shopping craze and decoration hype has taken the focus away from the message of love. Still we do celebrate, often finding back to the core when all the presents bought, the tree is decorated and the neighbour got the price for best garden decorations. So it should be about St. Valentine’s. Love is comes in many shapes and colours, not just pink hearts or red roses. Let lovers celebrate the day in the way they want to.
I hope that next year, I will not feel like ignoring the celebration of St. Valentine. I will ignore the pressure of consumerism. Instead, I will think of all the great things about this day: Schoolchildren blushing while reading homemade notes from secret admirers. Young couples holding hands, first kisses and confessions of love. Parents stealing glances and walking arm in arm while their kids look the other way. Older couples dining at a restaurant together, remembering when they used to be young and telling each other how they are still as handsome/beautiful as the first day they met. Even at the graveyards there can be beauty on St. Valentine’s; thousands of candles, each one telling of a love that not even death managed to quench. That is what we should think of today. Never mind what Hollywood or capitalism says. To love costs nothing. Let lovers have their one day. Better was if it was like that all year, but at least this one day.
All this is for couples. This is not a day for the single. However, that does not mean one needs to sulk. We can be happy for those of our friends and family who does have someone special on this day. We can look at all those things I mentioned before and rejoice; for if there is so much love out there, surely it will be some for us one day. And even if you are still not convinced and still believe it is all stupid, why bother about it? It’s a day a year. Let them have their ignorant bliss.
søndag, september 11, 2011
Back to the Continent
I’m not inclined to promise that I’ll write much, as I’ve broken that promise before. On the other hand, I can say that if I had promised that, I would like to believe I would have no problem keeping the promise this time. I am imagining there will be some of you who finds it necessary to point out that “Arthur, why bother? There is no one who reads your blog anymore!” To those I would point out that, as far as writing or talking without anyone listening concerns, it has never stopped me before.
mandag, mars 28, 2011
In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning
The increase in ideas that night brings have, in my case, not always been a blessing. As a kid, the mixture of vivid imagination and morbid ideas lead to many a night where I lay awake in fear of monsters, ghosts and other abominations (3) . I feel the need to point out that I was fully aware that none of these creatures existed, but if a fear is irrational, then logics needs to be backed by light, mum and dad. Fat good any of these did when I was too afraid to leave my bed to get help from them.
onsdag, februar 02, 2011
Fay Dragonsbane's Tale
Fay Dragonsbane's Tale
Come gather around,
both young and old.
For I have a story,
that needs to be told.
Greater tales?
I vow there are few,
than that of Fay,
who the dragon slew.
Fay was a woman,
from lands far away,
and how she came to England,
I cannot say,
Her hair was like night,
and she didn't stand tall,
but for she who slays dragons,
it pays to be small.
In the heart of London,
this story is set,
and Fay was there with her Pretty,
who was as fair as boys get.
But the dragon of London,
saw them from it's lair,
and took Fay's Pretty,
cause it hadn't eaten all year.
Poor little Fay,
she fell into despair,
cause loosing ones Pretty,
is more than women can bear.
But lucky for her,
she heard of three men.
Who, could with their power,
help her meet her sweetheart again.
She met with these three,
and by them she was told:
“To slay such a dragon,
it takes more than to be bold!”
Drink, game and lie,
one quest given by each.
And against these three men,
that ain't no walk on the beach.
So she drank against the first,
and owned number two.
She told the third one a lie,
and he thought it was true.
The gifts that they gave,
was fit for a lord,
armour and shield,
and a magical sword.
Fay went forth,
armed with cunning and steel,
and found where the dragon,
was preparing it's meal.
Our hero fought the dragon,
and cut off it's head, I am told.
Now Fay got her Pretty,
and also silver and gold.
Happily ever after,
they lived those two.
Of children I am told,
they had quite a few.
Now if you ever believe someone
joy should gain,
then tell them the great story,
of Fay the dragon's bane.
fredag, desember 25, 2009
Moving on
First things first. Andreas, that thing you did in Western Europe, "white Christmas", awesome. But see to it that you get some of the guys downstairs to clean it up. Maybe get the temperature up a notch and put in some rain. Is Clause in yet? Oh? Only finished the Nordic countries and Eastern Asia? Who the hell put that idiot on the job? I always tell him to get it all done before midnight, but NO, he always goes on only finishing just before daybreak in Hawaii. Also, there is Only-God-Knows-How-Many ridiculously decorated trees out there. I wanted the usual bonfire, but the boss said otherwise. He's always nagging about recycling, so the trees will be material for the first quarterly rapport this year. Get the paper-mills going.
Someone needs to look into that business of knocking over the pope. Now don't blame yourself over that one Paul. You had no way of telling what was to come, and it could have happened on anyone's watch. Holy old dude is pretty unstable anyway. Just make sure "Pope-bowling" doesn't go all trendy or anything. Tim, what the hell is this? I asked for the usual, and you get me an espresso? Go fetch me what I asked for!
Moving a bit forward: Who volunteers for making sure getting back from holidays will become an absolute nightmare this year? Isabel, you're up for your first big shot? Just remember, after Andreas' success with messing up traffic before Christmas, you gotta think big. Snow, sand, floods, aliens... Hell, I don't care, just be creative.
On to New Year's Eve: Please don't make too much of a mess of it. I know some people loosing limbs and eyes from mishandling fireworks is part of the tradition, but keep it down. On the other hand, make sure there is enough alcohol for everybody. I don't want to see a single sober person on Time Square this year.
Wait a minute, Clause is calling. Yes, hallo Clause? One of the raindeers has a broken leg, you say? We'll send Alex and Pete over with a replacement. They will be there in ten. Bye.
Okay you guys, you heard me. Johnny will get you rifles. You need to let the poor animal out of it's misery. Oh, and we'll ask Arthur if he can make his famous raindeer steak for us again. Where the hell is my latte?
torsdag, oktober 01, 2009
Bath Freshersweek FAQ
Some critics have doubted my words, and I shall therefore avoid telling of the great battles between good and evil in the epic of Freshers week 2009. However, in an effort to quench your curiosity, I will write an FAQ (Frequently Asked Questions) to give people an idea how the world turned these days in autumn 2009. Bear in mind that it's the questions that's important. The answers can come some other time.
1. Where is Filip?
On the behalf of my readers, I might add: Who is Filip? Filip is one of my flatmates, or so it is written in the official papers. However, so far he has not been spotted on campus, even after extensive enquirers by the all the other inhabitants of the house. Now Filip is the ultimate Man of Mystery, and the little we know of has paved the way to greater legends. He was last seen battling against Chuck Norris for universal domination. You will never need an introduction with Filip: You know it is him at once when you see him. It is widely believed that when Filip arrives, it will be with a great parade, riding a white elephant. It is also widely believed that some of this information came from people who were in a heavily abbreviated state, and/or who were smoking tealeaves. This is unfortunately far more difficult to prove.
2. Which idiot thought togaparty was a good idea in freaking October?
These English and their dressing-up parties. It is never enough to dress as yourself, as you are probably pretty boring. That is sadly enough the truth, so the Freshers in Bath have seen their new comrades in lots of different outfits, from bikinis to togas. The amount of clothing per night varied greatly, and some of the days, it just was not enough. It is not exactly cold outside, not for a Norwegian anyway, but why on earth do you need to challenge fate? There are clothes made to wear in the autumn and Bermuda-shorts or togas are not amongst these.
3. Who the is responsible for the firedrill, and where does he live?
At 08:29 on Saturday morning I was sleeping quietly in my bed in Eastwood. I had been up to about o4:00, and was in desperate need of sleep, since it had not been prioritized throughout the week. I do not remember what I was dreaming, and to be honest, you might not have wanted to know anyway. The moment the clock hit 08:30, something bizarre happened: A high, annoying sound starting slamming into my eardrums, and I immediately woke up. The fire-alarm had started. Knowing I would be heavily fined if I ignored it and went back to sleep, I reluctantly got up. On the other hand, I also knew I had the time to get dressed before I got out. This was not known by many others, so boxers and t-shirts where the majority of the mannequin of the morning. There was a cold wind blowing that morning, and the leader was not afraid of his own voice. He used the time he needed to inform us that this was the only drill of the year, but that it was very important that we reacted if the alarm started. After about fifteen minutes, the angry students had transformed into cold, desperate forms, ready to get into bed. As we were walking back in, I could not help but to find comfort and even pleasure in the misery of the more lightly dressed. I went back to sleep feeling great.
4. Where are all the Norwegians?
-No...
-Oh, sorry. You see, I'm Norwegian and I heard there should be a couple of Norwegian girls around. I was told to look for someone tall, blond and beautiful.
There is said to be quite a few Norwegians around, but I seem unable to find them. I heard stories of two Norwegians girls, and made the worst pick-up line of all time based on that information. I also heard there was a Norwegian girl in the house next to mine. I did not take actions, as I was not going to go knocking just because of what some drunk teenagers were telling me (I turned 20 this April. Therefore, I now am entitled to patronize teenagers). I did meet two on Friday, and my neighbour was clearly visible in her "russe"-hoodie at the fire-drill. Still, the majority of Norwegians have still managed to elude me. Honestly, I'm okay with that: If I wanted to hang around Norwegians all the time, I should never have left Norway in the first place.