torsdag 10. juli 2008


Today I finally received the Snutjävel package I've been waiting for for ages.
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


You can say a lot of stuff about cops, and I'm sure you'll even find some arguments for why we need pigs in our everyday society. But I want to say one thing: Mallcops are probably the most incompetent, ignorant, dried up cops in the world. You know, I think I haven't been to a town and stayed there for more than two days yet without getting into confrontation with the securitas.
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.