lørdag 27. desember 2008
Piss out, bitches
tirsdag 9. desember 2008
… It’s 9:30 PM and it’s Sunday, 7th December. This is my confession.
The drugs are kicking in, the amphetamine is playing pinball inside my slowly rotting animated corpse and it is my ex girlfriend’s birthday today.
My little fortress of solitude currently consists of: Four very pale, white walls with a few show posters, drawings, some copies of old soviet propaganda, a desk where I can work, a window that’s never possible to see through because I never open my curtains, various empty teacups, a lamp, a vinyl player and laundry and not-so dirty laundry all over these two metres of space. I live a life without impulses. I am institutionalized.
Between these four walls I spend most of the time I have left praising my teenage sense of so called “self-destruction”. But do not cry for me, because staying at this pathetic excuse of a prison holds nothing but opportunities. I see strategies, I see ways to escape, I see ways of keeping this from happening again without giving up my independence, freedom and general love for life.
I stopped smoking because it’s stupid and I don’t see why I need cigarettes for anything else then joints. Paternacide by Morning Glory starts spinnin’ as I enter a sort of psychosis/revelation. I am not here because of drug problems. I am here because I made a mistake, because I got careless, because I forgot how to dodge their game. This is not a confession of my previous “crimes” or “sins” or whatever the fuck you wanna call it.
This is a confession of my carelessness, a confession for that I accepted the avoidable, I am confessing that I on purpose sat down in the back of a social therapist’s Volvo and let the fucker drive me off to a fucking social apartment to rot away until I was ready to face their bullshit with a smile that even Mr Rogers would approve as fake. Forgive me, Satan for I have sinned…
tirsdag 14. oktober 2008
onsdag 8. oktober 2008
I'm pissed off about the election and that the majority of voters in the US are urban-hating suitmonkeys and inbreed, racist rednecks.
Another thing that annoys me is the establishments around me and the third thing is that unless I create a seperate blog for school asignments I'll have to post a fictional article about a fairy tale here..
onsdag 1. oktober 2008
Vegetarianiel is me
I love life
life don't love me back
but I really love life
I like jacking off to imaginary imagery of me and life having intercourse
I picked flowers
life trashed them
I tried to expose myself to life
but life kicked me in my balls
and burnt my hair
it hurts a lot so I try to stop thinking about life
I want to smoke crack to forget about life
but nobody lets me so i stay up and write love letters to life
like this one
is this a confession or a love letter to life?
or is it a hate letter?
I hope its a love letter.
but I love you
because I'm gay too
but only for you
because I let you fuck me anally all the time
but you still won't let me
even though I let you fuck me anally
When will the day come when you will stop fucking me in the ass
and asking me how I feel about getting fucked in the ass?
It hurts when you fuck me anally
because I'm not really gay
just gay for you
I want to die too
does that make me a bisexual?
If so I want to fuck a straight person
Norwegian poems suck
I like drugs
I take a lot of drugs
when I take drugs life punishes me
so I shit juice and blood
life never wants to snuggle
just fuck me all the time
then i start to shit blood again
it hurts a lot
New mom tells me im gonna turn out like old mom
Old mom is dead
My mom is a big part of my life
Does that mean my mom is fucking me in the ass?
My dad tells me I'm a dopehead
he's not a part of my life right now
school is lifes penis
Dariok is not
Life has a lot to learn from Dariok
First I was 16
then I was 17
Then I was a woman
then I was 90
then I was 86
Now I'm 64
I can't wait till I'm ten
Then life will be a pedophile
Right now I'm the pedophile
So life is a molester
Vegetarianiel is a molested pedophile
the kids laughs at that
it's not funny
I don't save my poems
When I die someone might find them and sell them
then death will fuck me in the ass too
I'm scared now
My mom had her birthday today
my mom fucked me on her birthday
its not her birthday anymore
life scared him
life treats me differently when Ole is here
I think life is ashamed too
I wish I was drunk
My mom had her birthday today
my mom fucked me on her birthday
its not her birthday anymore
life scared him
life treats me differently when Ole is here
I think life is ashamed too
I wish I was drunk
Coffee is good
I take coffee instead of speed
When I'm on coffee I can outrun life
I run fast
Except when it's in uniform
I daydreamed that I kissed a girl
It was better than fucking
I want to go steal a car
I copy Ezra
I'm a copycat
I hate copycats
Stop fucking cats
I wonder if paprika makes you high
The movie said it does
I miss riding bikes
I can outrun life
Life can't reach my ass that way
Cars scare me
I went to Ski
To outrun life
It went pretty well
Existence is OK
Floyd used to be good
Girls don't scare me
Boys gets scarier and scarier
I'm sick of hanging out with queers
tirsdag 30. september 2008
Peace out y'all.
søndag 28. september 2008
YES, I do realize it is not PC but I cannot help being a Ezra fanboy. I browsed through his musical projects and accidently tumbled over...his old blogspot. It's from 2006 and pretty much a collection of his old poems. Or well, he blogged through poems and it's really entertaining reading his views on different events in his life just that they rhyme. I put it up under gods next to the blog so you can go check it out for yourself if you feel like reading some DIY poetry.
Kill yourself today
Anger and sadness imprinting our hearts
Join the machinery or die behind bars
Selfdestruction is my only choice
When you've chopped off my arms and murdered my voice
Trying to slaughter my hope and my will
Crucified to the walls of your systems, still
you hit and hit like a fucking machinegun
blast my legs to hell so I can't run
Stealing my freedom and raping my pride
Firing at me with all your might
So here I go, a glass of pills
Unlock it first, now here it tilts
Cheers to your institutions, cheers to your fucking goons
Cheers to your fucking methods, cheers to your fucking rules
I'm expiring from your assistance, expiring from your help
Expiring from your slavery, expiring from your hell
So here goes my little statement out of frustration
I found a little way to stop your sick obsession
With ruining my life with making me your whore
I'm roasting my own brains dedicated to your support
Say your little prayers, give me your farewells
I'm taking the next pillsip out of your safety hell.
mandag 22. september 2008
onsdag 17. september 2008
The importance of a alternative press submitted through blogs, wikis and independent, nonprofit newsorganizations is pretty relevant. Andrew Keen argues against it by complaining about how the narrowminded bloggers and independent, amateur reporters are imprinting the articles with their own opinions and views and steal good stories from educated reporters. Fucking bullshit, if it wasn't for the independent unorganized news platforms some news would never reach the surface. Dear A. Keen, do you realize that bloggers prevented a school masacre in Boston by bringing certain points of interests into the light about the students webspace where he had written about it on a pasword protected section? No ofcourse you don't. You hate the internet. Why should the established press run a monopoly on important news? This isn't really about your journalist pride, it's about how independence is killing your moneymaking and that really bugs you doesn't it, Andrew? You say these bloggers are unexperienced amateurs and that they do not bring out the complete story, but the independent news revolution has just begun and there will appear more organized and complete sources for information. Just like the selfsatisfying, libertyhating penisreplacement you call a education, Rome was not built in one day.But we will keep fighting, we will keep tearing down your towers of profitbased information and publish news and facts you would never dare even whispering about. That's journalism, not trying to make the article more controversial and acceptable. If kicking you verbally in your Berkley university-asshole makes me subjective, then I don't want to be objective.
onsdag 10. september 2008
I kept thinking about this for a few hours, because this triggered something. "is this really today's definiton of punk rock?" Hooking up with a bunch of kids who concider themselves outcasts outside the biggest scenekid store in norway? What the fuck... But then I came to think about something that has been bugging my unconsciousness for years. How many of us do still cling to our ideals? I remember seeing all these actual Blitz kids drinking pepsi and sipping down coca cola, I remember all the hypocracy in the scene. Is punk rock more then just another scene? Is it more than just a dirty appeal and homemade clothes? Are we aware of our choices? Are we idealists or just lacking identity? I even remember this time when I was speaking to this girl at Blitz, I asked her about her political views and she said "she had a lot of own opinions". I asked what she meant by that and she told me "I think animal-cruelty is wrong and I hate war and Bush." ... Who the fuck with a right mind doesn't hate bush? Who likes war? Is this the modern day ideology that imprints the punk scene? These kids are wearing ACAB shirts and they don't even know why they hate the police! These kids are all members of the NDF and not even half of them are vegetarians, and fifty percent of the vegetarians are wearing expensive leatherjackets! Do you know what your bands sing about, bitch? What the fuck is Eminem doing right under Dead Gherardsens on your mp3 play... Ohmy fucking god is that a iPod? Does revolution come in a hairspray can? Does it come through your alternative press? Does it come with your leatherjacket? Does it come with your marrocan marijuana which probably cost several people their harvest and food because some mafia forced them to replace their corn with marijuana and cocaine plants? No. No it doesn't. You judge me for being a PC-Nazi. Fuck you. If these are my modern day revolutionaries then kill me please.
onsdag 27. august 2008
800grader.com is pretty much the unofficial internet platform for norwegian punk rock and hardcore. It is a place to arrange gigs, book bands, get show info, see pictures from the latest gig, find out about new music, sell your vinyls and crap and talk about random shit with likeminded punks. http://www.800grader.com/ Is currently just a forum but the admins claim that they are indeed working on a website, it's just not done yet... yeah right.
Other sites I visit a lot is 7inchpunk.com which is a site for downloading old and new punk rock 7 inches, too bad the selection is so limited. Still a lot of undiscovered great punk rock records on that site. Ch-ch-check it out!
... I also go on tv-links.cc or surfthechannel.com to watch Invader Zim, Venture Bros, Dilbert and all the other lame cartoons I watch.
P.S I just purchased the Hevn CD and a italian 80`s hardcore compilation from Bombs Away Records/Distro. Can't wait!
fredag 8. august 2008
lørdag 2. august 2008
torsdag 10. juli 2008
After much trouble with both bank accounts, post offices and all that shit. It's funny because I remember when I first ordered it from Rka I asked him that since I was buying the 7" if he couldn't send me the songs over mail so I could have them on my MP3 player too. I got the reply "Sorry, Snutjävel syslar inte med sånt." Whcih for all of you who dont know swedish means "Sorry, but Snutjävel don't do that stuff." In the begining I wondered, "What the fuck? What's his problem?" The funny thing was that I was really sceptic to these guys ideals, think of it: They didnt want me to be able to have the songs on my computer and spent a awful lot of time on sending it... But along with the t-shirt and the 7" Rka had sent me a swedish fanzine. Cow:Files #6 where in they had a interview with Snutjävel. I started reading it and suddenly the entire waiting period, the refusal to send songs over email and all the other stuff seemed very exciting. In the interview Rka spoke about DIY, ofcourse I know about DIY from before, but this kind of opened my eyes. What's really more exciting? Browsing through a fuck load of mp3 files to skip a lot of songs because you're too busy doing other things aside from listening to it because you're just waiting for that other song you actually intended to download along with the other fucklot OR to receive a 7 inch in the mail along with a t-shirt from the band, with a handwritten message inside the envelope and a fanzine. Spending time and effort on doing things in that tradition really makes it more enjoyable. It really does! This reminded me excactly why I love receiving letters rather than e-mails, making my own dinner rather than buying some steril product at the local shop. I mean, finding new exciting bands over the internet is great and if it wasn't for the internet I prolly'd never even hear about Snutjävel, but actually receiving something sent to you from a actual person, something real and physical is a whole lot different than running through a archive of music that you probably will never give your full attention to. I love vinyls and I love that first listening, lying in my bed and reading the lyric sheet as the song goes, that knittery sound and then putting the 7" back in its folder and putting it on the top of the record pile for then to put the mailenvelope it came in up on the wall. That's pretty much why I love DIY, weither its records or food or shows or whatever.
Here are some pics of the t-shirt, the 7" and me fucking around.
onsdag 2. juli 2008
I remember my first confrontation with a mallcop, more correctly a grocery storecop. I think I was 9 or something and I was gonna steal a chocolate bar when suddenly on my way out of the store, this huge, old, germanlooking fuckhead grabs my arm and stares right into me as if I had just raped his daughter or something. So the motherfucker looks at me and goes "So when are you gonna pay for the chocolate?" and I almost pissed my pants. I'm dead serious. This guy looked like he was gonna choke me any second. I don't remember if it was 20 minutes or two hours but I spent a lot of time in his office waiting for my dad to pick me up.
You'd think a creepy experience like that would've made me a uptight citizen but that's fucken bullshit. I became a active everyday shoplifter which has lead me into many exciting adventures and confrontations with the so called knights of public security. I mean, yeah, it's okay that they do their job, for all sake. But it's not like they're saving any lives or making a difference except ruining a day for the shoplifter and serving the evergrowing corporations best interests though they wouldn't even suffer a economical loss from the deposit. One thing is a actual robbery, me stealing a pack of food, batteries, beer or whatever does not go against the company's best interest, 10% of all their shit is given away to employes or trashed because it expires, so why the fuck not put it to some goddamn use instead?
Alright, so let's say they're just doing their job, just putting some goddamn food on the fucking table. But why the fuck do you pick on people who haven't even done anything? Another great example of power abuse was just yesterday when I went back to Moss (fucking place of my dreams) at first, we crash at the floor outside a store at the Amfi mall. We laugh and me and Steffen wrestled a bit but people who walked by just smiled and minded their own business and didn't seem to care for a bunch of punks outside the toy store. So we got up, headed out and sat outside the Amfi just to grab some sun. So there we were, just sitting there not hurting a fly and talking when this goddamn motherfucker in his buttugly blue uniform, three fucking cherries on his shoulder walks up to us. "You kids can't stay here, move away from the mall." we're like "what? We're not hurting anyone." And the bastard goes "Well you can't sit outside the mall." So we're like "why not? we were sitting inside previously just a few minutes ago." the dickhead scratches his head and goes "because I say so that's why."
We're like "What you don't have any authority, you're a mallcop."
Guard: "It's against our policy.. blah blah blah it's not because you guys are punks or rockers or whatever you are. Don't you have Kåntra or something?"
Steffen: "Fuck you, man. We're like Emo kids" *(everyone bursts out in laughter)
Robin: "Nah it's closed and none of us" got the keys."
Guard: "Well you can't hang out here."
Robin: "So it's not legal to hang out at a mall? what the fuck?"
Guard: "You can stay there but you can't just relax and stand there without doing anything. How would you react if I came to your garden with a few of my friends and hung out there?"
Robin replied to this with a very cheerful answer.
"Why, sure. That'd be awesome! How about eight? you can get sodas and cake and shit."
This put the motherfucker pretty out of replies so he just told us to get lost which we occasinally did after a while, we moved five metres away and over to the stairs and hung out there for two hours. I can't really see what his problem was in the first place since there weren't even any people there. God, I hate fucking cherrycops, I got plenty of other stories but they'll have to wait for some other time. Fuck off, i'm off to get something to drink.
mandag 30. juni 2008
I am shit.
I am trash.
I am garbage.
I do not respond, I do not respond.
I am beautiful.
I am fucked.
I am shit.
Shit compared to you and your kind, your perfect, mindless species.
I am trash.
Trash on the filthy streets below your utopia.
I am garbage.
Garbage on the surface of your evolving world, your era of technology and civilization.
I am beautiful. I am truly fucked.
You call it society, oh mighty society, how do i make myself useful?
What should i do to please you oh mighty society?
I shall give up my destructive ways.
I shall give up my belief in unity between all people.
I shall give up my dreams of a world so peaceful we will have no need for nor leaders nor control.
I shall give up my dreams of a world where nor animal nor man need to be slaughtered.
I shall give up my dreams of love between people no matter where you are from or how you are made.
I shall no longer spend my hours laying in the grass outside of your protecting walls, loving, dreaming and wasting away my time. I will work, work work in your factories, your units, i will make you go around, and i will once and for all give up my ways.
And i shall consume, oh society, how i shall consume.
I shall contribute to you, oh society, through consuming,
consume consume consume consume.
Oh society, please forgive me because i cannot follow your guidelines,
Because i am just a mere romantic.
I am shit.
I am trash.
I am garbage.
I do not respond, i do not respond.
I am beautiful.
I am fucked.
I am still just a individual...
mandag 23. juni 2008
Imagine Punk Rock. Now take away the self-importance, the PC nazis and the macho fuckhead element and fill the space with joy and high energy shows. That's pretty much was Moss Punk Rock was like. A bunch of great bands and even greater people. Before going I had a pretty big fight with my parents about wether I was going to social rehab or Moss Punk Rock but I don't feel like getting into that since it's just a hold up of all the wonderful experiences. I hooked up with Fredrik in Oslo on friday and we headed down to Moss with the direct line. We were there about half an hour till seven, the weather was great. I gotta say the first surprise was Kåntra. I've never been to Kåntra before MPR 08, but Fredrik had told me a bit about it. Actually being there though, was a whole lot different. Kåntra is a one year old selfran youth house that is currently receiving benefit from the community board or however the fuck I'm supposed to say kommunestøtte in english. Anyhow, it didn't take long before I fell in love with the moss scene, all though most of them were pretty young, these are pretty much the most fun kids I've been around in ages. Among the most interesting people I met were Albert, this fucking smart pink-haired ska-kid/rudeboy/whatever they call themselves these days, the way I understood it he was traveling through Norway with some friends of his. He was also one hell of a dancer. Then we had Sandra, possibly the most mature 14 year old I have ever met in my entire life. She's like a fucking carnivore though, I think I alone have 7 bitemarks from her, she also ripped up the sleeve of Fredrik's stupid hippie t-shirt with her teeth. She hung out with me and Fredrik most of the time and we got piss drunk, I think we were constantly drunk for at least 60 hours. Some of the things that happened during these hours I'll talk about, the rest of them are none of your biz-shit. Then we had Steffen, punkkid from half an hour from where I live, surprised I never heard of him before. I get quite surprised these days, seeing all these patched up, mohawk kids. I never looked that hardcore when I was 15. Syver and Marijona were these two other people who gave us booze, we also slept in Marijonas house the second night. Anyhow, we managed to get down two pints each before the first band went on, Grevling Batong. I never even heard of them before but they were fun, didn't catch all their songs unfortunately. I think they were a moss band cause pretty much everyone had their logo somewhere. After that, me and
Fredrik went out to drink with whoever it was. I don't remember the line-up after that correctly, but I do remember Skandale Vandale. Now this band is fucking awesome, they play like fast, catchy punk rock and manage to sound pissed without sounding unoriginal like some bands tends to do these days. Pretty similar to Cheap Sex with a twist of GBH and that stuff, just with norwegian straight-from the gut lyrics. Even though we were like five punx in the pit we still moshed like fuck. I even sang along on the songs Snut and Livet er en vits, which are pretty much my favorite songs by them. Still pissed they didn't play Elverum Brenner though. After they played I got a discount on a t-shirt from them and a button, which makes me one of two people outside Elverum with a SV shirt, thouhg it's way too big for me. (I wear it anyway.)
I don't think I catched that many bands after that, there was this danish band called Human A/SS who I liked but I was too drunk to remember what they sounded like, Kohu played too, crusty as fuck, also there was this band one of the teachers on my school plays in called Dözarne who were a LOT faster live than on recording, I'd talk to him if it wasn't so fucking akward. Nuff said. I was surprised to see how many Oslopunx who showed up, since they usually never cross Ring 1. I also found out a lot more about Martin, who I from before had mostly gotten the impression that was simply the drunkest drunkpunk in Oslo, well he is, but I found out he was also really reflected and was boosted with self-irony. Fredrik had a coffecup of özo while I was gone which he shot from Syver and Marijona so he got the drunkest the first night. We went home, listened to a shit-load of music, watched a few Henry Rollins performances then crashed. Next day we woke up pretty early, ate some really delicious greece salad. We went back to Kåntra, only today I borrowed Fredriks sisters camera. We came, hooked up with Syver, had a couple of beers, then he left, Sandra came, more beer. we saw like two minutes of sengekameratene and Di Kjipe, can't remember which of the two bands who covered Wasted by Black Flag, we spent more time drinking than watching bands. Later we came to watch Pink Dirt because Sandra kept ranting about them. They were great though, possibly the third best band of the festival next to Tarmer and Skandale Vandale. They had lighthearted, catchy songs who were easy to sing along too though I never heard of them before that day. They were like the second oldest band at the festival next to Angstemblet, both these bands shows that you can be old as fuck and still be more punk than most kids in the scene today. Pink Dirt even threw out like ten free shirts while playing "Fred, Frihet og Alt Graits" (Peace Freedom and everything for free) which was also the slogan on the shirt. I didnt get a shirt but pretty much everyone else in the pit did. Right after Pink Dirt we opened the second bottle of cheap russian wine and shared it with the lead singer from Skandale Vandale.
Imported russian wine is tasty and affordable for the avarage punks. The plumwine was espescially good though it was only 12% or something like that. We headed back to the vegetarian BBQ outside Kåntra and just enjoyed being buzzed in good company, I was also able to get my hand on some bud while I was there which only improved the experience, even though it lead to Sandra biting my arm so badly it still hurts like hell when I poke it. Ouch.
Anyhow, right after this, the next band went on. The band I had been waiting for a year to see ever since I got my hands on their LP. Tarmer! Four fucked up, piss drunk, pissed off bergenpunks playing piss drunk, pissed off streetpunk, drinking down pint after pint just to smash the glassbottles at the audience and fighting the crowd. I must mention that Kåntra is very strict on the alcohol policy so Tarmer and Di Kjipe were probably the most hated bands at the festival. I can't help loving them though. I remember their lead singer shouting at us before the show "Fucking poserkids sitting there just snuggling and ranting bout the fucking internet when there are cop cars to burn". Still, no one can say Tarmer didn't put up a good show, skanking skins, moshing punks and even some persons dad who was a surprisingly good dancer thoguh he was the squarest guy in the crowd. Great singalongs and great energy. I remember espescially well when Trond (their lead singer) got down from the stage and started kicking everyone within the circle around him and I was the only one who kicked back, we had a short but really fun fight and this was pretty much the energy level of the rest of the show. I didn't see any more shows that night though this kid tried to convince me to see Bikjaa which he described as more alternative than alternative and a fuzion of punk and metal which sounded like something I could have said when I was 13 so I decided nto to see them. We just went out and had more beers. After the show, Tarmer started snorting speed, burning benches and turnin up the music in their van. We went boozehunting and asked them if they had any leftovers. Trond said there were some in a green tent, there wasn't any. We went boozehunting some more but only got a few cigarettes. Then Syver went home and me and Fredrik crashed at Marjona's place. The next morning I woke up drunk with a cat on my chest. Fredrik had went home to get his sister her camera before she headed to sweden. I ate some sandwiches and had a cup of coffee. I really liked Marjona's house, she said it was 80 years old or something. There were all these books, decorative items and all this other cool stuff. Marjona was also a pretty rad painter, she showed me one of her paintings which made me feel pretty miserable about my stuff. Darn Steiner youth. We went back to Kåntra, drank the beer the bands hadn't sipped down and me. this old guy and Martin smoked some bud before Fredrik arrived, needless to say this caused me to receive more bitemarks. I went home afterwards that afternoon, it sucked though because i really fell in love with Kåntra and the whole Moss scene. Me and Fredrik were invited for more drinking sometime soon. I can't wait. Remember my previous post when I wondered why I was looking forward to the holidays? This is definetly the reason,unfortunately I wasn't able to take any more for now. But I will browse the internet to look for more. I can't wait to go to next year's festival. I plan to get even drunker.
Peace out, bitches!
torsdag 19. juni 2008
Can it be that the reason why I am looking forward to the holiday is because I feel guilt?
I haven't noticed it myself, but can it be because I constantly disapoint certain people around me? It can't be because of my disapointment in myself, I honestly don't have any. I live as freely as I can and try to make the most out of even rainy-days. I remember a few weeks ago, my shrink asked me; What do Daniel Carlsen want with his life?
The answer: I want things to stay this way.
Peace out, bitches, holidays starts tomorow and I can't fucking wait to go to Moss Punk Rock Festival.
P.S. Don't worry, I will get my hands on a camera someday soon, blogs without photos are fucking square. And not in a sexual way.