the local population is living of stinking fish entrails

Tonight, there is a show on the telly you might want to watch. This is part of the tagline: “Something is wrong; the local population is living of stinking fish entrails, the prostitution is on the rise and the number of people sick in aids is growing more and more." Its seems to be sort of about my life, or at least some of my friends I think, i don't really now if have aids, how often do you have to check? Today when I was walking home from school…

(which is going great by the way, a breakthrough in the group work, and a very interesting discussion this morning with the invited guest, that actually made us much more clear on what our idée is all about I think. Presentation tomorrow)

…I decided to walk through the alcoholic’s park, situated between the hospital (the section for venereal diseases if im not wrong, which is kinda funny) and Mobilia). A nice enough park, fruit trees and green grass this has been a nice home for several of them for a while. Since the fifties perhaps, how should I know. As I walk through the park I first se two very strange things; a twirl of canned chilli con carne, several cans, six, seven, eight? spilled out on the ground and twirled around in a mysterious pattern. Then a few meters away a large pile, a pyramid of puffed rise, not just one box, but perhaps three or four boxes. I then say hello to my friends and sit and talk for a couple hours before I go home, to take a shower. A shower. I feel ashamed. I shall treat them to a pie tomorrow. There not bad guys, really. Christer is just as drunk just as often, and i do like a bit of a "ledgångsolja" myself. But they couldnt explain the weird piles. Were they even real?

Anyhow and anyway, tomorrow we will present our work in school, and here’s a teaser. This is also the day when I will open the mysterious gift, so be aware that anything can happen.



I’m kinda bored with music so tonight I will be listening to the sounds of the ghetto,it’s kinda like this

A young girl relaxes with her goats, as she meditates and contemplates her life.

I’m really fucking tired and bored. Autumn is a time for contemplation. I want you to contemplate this: Joel (me) is the world’s greatest force and I could destroy you all with a single thought. With a single touch I create and destroy worlds. You are nothing. Happy namsdag: Enar, Einar, happy birthday göta kanal, I will obliterate you.

About the workshop; I think this is both the by far most interesting workshop I’ve attended, as well as the most interesting and successful group work. This even though we haven’t actually succeeded in doing very much, and that I hardly could call it “fun”. But it sparks my interest and I might just get myself together and start showing some examples of the infamous dis******. I wont spell it out, cause you would just steal it.

Another thing I thought of this afternoon after getting bored with those desperate housewives and contemplating this mornings meeting with the design theorist: I think design theory has strayed to far from philosophy, not at all gotten to close. Yeah. Chew on that one. And ask me what I mean if you wish. I might tell you or I might keep it to myself. Keep in mind that i can destroy you with a single thought.

Lily Allen is my new love, cause It seems Veronica Maggio is only some Kayo in a disguise. Tonight I will fantasise about poking her.

Disturbingly strange: A fisherman and a secret passageway

A disturbingly strange weekend. Spent the Friday and the Saturday at Tykos in Lund, getting drunk in different places. Among other things that might have or might not have happened, I got up on the “Kulturnatten” stage, played some drums and recited some free poetry,; “ I move like a crab trough time”. “Kulturnatten”, by the way is a stupid name witch kinda makes you feel like you’re in Nazi Germany. Change it. After this I passed out at McDonalds. (which was a good place to pass out considering the school project, which is, by the way, going well)

None of this would have been very strange if it wasn’t for the fact that all through the weekend, drunk or sober, in the corner of my eye there was always a small man waving for me too come with him, somewhere. He was dressed like a fisherman, one of those old English fisherman you see painted on oil canvases, only much shorter. Sometimes I think he whispered to me, the way an old grandma might whisper, in a light silly voice “joel, jo-o-o-el, ho ho. On Sunday he seemed to have disappeared, and I went back to Malmö, thinking this was nothing more than some drunk hallucination. Got back to the apartment, put Christer to bed (who had fallen asleep amongst ten to fifteen litre boxes of red wine, playing playstation), and went to bed myself, being quite tired after the weekend. But when I was just about to fall asleep I suddenly noticed a small door in my floor, which had never been there before. When I investigated it I realized it lead to a small tunnel between the fourth and the fifth floor. Being a curious fella, I had to check it out. It turned out it lead to a small empty room, empty except for a small fisher’s hat and a small gift, with my name on it. I took the gift, left the hat, feeling kinda scared. Then I went to sleep on the sofa. When I wake up, the door was gone but the gift was still there. I haven’t dared to open it yet. Perhaps tonight. I must get ready for school now, and I don’t know if I really want to know what’s in it…

A big thanks to "Cliff Cardiff" by the way, for leaving a comment. I want more of this, or i will drastically lower the quality of this blog as some kind of a weird punishment.

When I go too school I will listen to Veronica Maggio: Nöjd cause I think I´m in love.

Senior Gul and Mister Good-Morning

There once was a wondrous man called Senior Gul. He was three meters tall and lived in a grotto made out of wool. His best friend was a mysterious monkey called Mister Good-Morning. Together they travelled through space in a magical sandwich. He had twenty thousand slaves. They all sang, from sunrise to nightfall. But still he was sad.

- I need wifes, Senior Gul said to Mister Good-Morning
- But why, Good Morning replied, - do you not want to travel through space and search for the magical mystery?
- Yes, yes I do. But without wives, what’s it all really worth? Gul asked with a sigh.

I was lying last time when I said you could leave a comment, you couldn’t, but I’ve fixed it now, so now you can. It wasn’t my fault either but the fuckheads from “blogspot”. Not that I feel bad about lying, If a meet any of you readers tomorrow, I will try to lie to your faces. That reminds me, Kami, are you actually reading this? I would like to know, cause otherwise I could dispense of some of the not so interesting anecdotes about my schoolwork. And only leave in the good stuff, if I accidentally piss myself in class or whatever it might be.

Not so interesting info about school: The group assignment is going really well, it feels very good to be in an ambitious group, and I find the progression and the ideas very interesting. Also our assigned teacher has proven to be of great help, not setting any limits but rather pushing us forwards in the right direction. These long days makes me incredibly tired though.

Today Johanna mad a great chilli con carne, which I ate. Christer ate some but he thought it needed more porter so to make things easy he put some chilli in his beer. Tonight I probably will be listening to one of Christers favourite bands through the wall; perhaps it will sound something like this:

A few words about Friday’s public dancing, and a few words about some Ola Salos beard.

Now iv'e fixed it so that anyone can comment on the blog. Do it or suffer pain.

First things first, Fridays dancing design. Walking around town in droves. As I suspected this was, at least in my eyes, a failure. Too few could back up they’re “design” with any theory or idea, and most of the dances were either not very impressive or not very interesting, either just silly or failures. This was very evident when we tried to discuss them, there wasn’t much to discuss, and I felt rather sorry for the invited dancer who had nothing to say except for, “I don’t know”. A few dances I did think worked somewhat ok, the reading of the paper and the walking over the bridge perhaps. As for our dance; except for the first part (which I never really liked and think we should have skipped) I think it, by accident, worked incredibly well. It was never planned that we should start of a march in german, or confront, or play with, any political issues. Though the political connotations were there, this was really thought of as nothing more than play. But in retrospect nothing could have been better. Our dance was suddenly, in many ways, very political, very provocative, very interesting, and very brave. Especially with the chaos ending, which with the marching started in german, now had a new and very interesting meaning. Great design and art by accident, perhaps.


Anyway, time for some celeb sightings. After the dancing I got drunk, and then I got drunk. Then Christer got drunk. Then I got drunk and had an interesting conversation with Ola Salo (stupid name) - among other things I, who had at the moment forgotten that he’s bisexual, said to him; “Är det inte jobbigt att man måste suga så mycket kuk I den här branschen? To which he replied “Nej suga kuk gör man väl lite när man vill”

And he had the most incredible beard. There was hair everywhere, and I mean everywhere, in his face. I have tried to capture this in a picture

Tonight I am listening to Killer Mike dissing Oprah and Martha Stewart, cause I think its kinda funny: thats life

I don't want to to wait for our lives to be over. And I don't want to go to school.

I have a hangover again and I think it’s slightly evil of you Kami to make us be in school at nine on a Monday. And it’s not at all my fault that I have a hangover, I simply had no choice. I had to celebrate good times come on. And I cannot sleep when have a hangover (I get horrible nightmares about being awake), so I will be in a terrible state tomorrow. If somebody reads this before I come to class in the morning, could you bring a damp towel?

I will write more, about friday, and about the weekend activities, dancing with a rapping dwarf and other exciting things. But i can't possibly do it right now cause i feel a bit sick, and i think i must lie down for a bit.

I will listen to Kenny rogers when i'm sick, i think it's soothing. We've Got Tonight - Kenny Rogers & Sheena Easton Everybody should listen to Kenny rogers sometimes. Why not. Goodnight.

Sad and Horny, Foucault vs. Heidegger, and some ways of making money.

I feel confused. After a long day in school, some hassle with my brother who wants all my money (or he will “destroy my face”) I come home and find myself feeling rather tired and melancholy. And horny. This is somewhat disturbing, and makes me feel even more depressed, yet horny. I don’t know how too deal with these emotions. I ate some wafers but they didn’t help at all.

Concerning what I wrote about yesterday, now I have finally gotten some response on my blog. The response wasn’t quite what I expected though:

“Hi, i was looking over your blog and didn't
quite find what I was looking for. I'm looking for
different ways to earn money... “

But I’m a nice guy, and I will try to comply. So Mr “Askintoo”: Here are my tips on how to make some money:

1. Pleasure an elderly gentleman. (A nice and easy way to make a quick buck, and have some fun)
2. Pleasure a Lady (Not quite as nice as number one, though they might give you nice things and take you out to dinner, they tend to treat you like an object)
3. Give head to some guy in the park (The worst alternative, they simple don’t pay that well, plus you might get paid with a fist in your face.)

So, have some fun with the tips “Askintoo”!

School today was ok; I do like the guys from Unsworn, more so than the other guests so far. They seem to have a playful yet intelligent approach, are ambitious and can back up their work with theory. Today’s exercise, the “slowwalk” I didn’t like that much though, it seemed far too much like what is in Swedish called “flanera”, to be out for a stroll, something that I am not unaccustomed to. Also the project for tomorrow comes with some problems, I think most students see this as nothing more than fun and play. With my own group this is very evident, but I know I have to make compromises when working in groups so I guess I will have to go along with it.

Two things I however didn’t like with Unsworn, One; they claimed that this is probably the only chance we will ever have to design with this amount of people, but how do they know? I am sure I don’t know what I will do ten years from now. Two: The quoting of Foucault; I’m tired of this old man and I claim that his reign will soon be over. (and would already have been over if not for schools like K3 who keep sneaking in his philosophy into everything we do) Also I think Foucault has been popular on the expense of Heidegger, who in my eyes is not only a greater philosopher but better looking. To prove this I have set up a poll: so

Click here to vote on who’s the better looking, Foucault or Heidegger


















Now I am tired, sad and horny so I must go to bed were I will cry and masturbate myself to sleep while I listen to: Tindersticks - Sometimes it hurts

Cat 5 is trying to fool me - i will not be fooled

Cat 5 is trying to fool me in to believing they are some sexy and cool chicks, with style and attitude. They are not. They are actually pretty ugly and stupid and daft. It’s a very old joke to have similar clothes on, and the hoodies are too small anyways and they don’t turn me on even though they really wish they could, and all they really did was steal an old Right Said Fred Tune. Don’t steal Rights Said Fred’s music, they were masters and nobody can ever be that good again. Because of this deceit by two lame media-program students (who most certainly will never even be the new Lili and Sussie) I will proclaim tomorrow the defend Righ Said Fred day, and I will listen to their music all day long and perhaps have a sherry. Though I might not, I think the alcohol is starting to give me old and dirty clothes and a weird moustache.




The new course in school is starting to make some sense. Todays presentation of the different group-projects was fun, though not so well planned. It would probably have been better if we’d been in the assembly hall. We were, kind of, in the cafeteria, But a lot of the projects were interesting and well done. A lot better, I think, than in the first part of this course, with Camille. Seems people are getting the point now.

Christers sick as well now. This horrid disease just seems to be spreading. Or is he in withdrawal? Hard to tell. Snuffe seems a bit sick too, but I guess it’s only for the best.

Another thing: there might have been some confusion about my daily music tips; these are clickable, left-click on the thicker, beige text and you should get an (legal) mp3 or come to a website. If this doesn’t work, try right-clicking and choose “save target as” / “spara mål som”. Also I am disappointed that I get no response to this blog. If you read, unless you are totally indifferent to my writings, why not write a line.

Tonight I am starting early on my defend Right Said Fred day by watching the video of their greatest hit: Right Said Fred - I'm Too Sexy

Sickness, Heroin, and some thoughts about violence

I've been sick. Sick like a stupid dog who eats a human carcass. Sick like Krister is when his coming of (what he might call) "a two of weeks drinking and takin meph binge". Sick like if someone made me smoke some heroine or made me drink my own piss, or what not, perhaps wednesday. I don't know. Can't remember properly. So this is a warning to all of you's who think it's "cool" or "hip" to take some drugs or drink. It's not. It' s fuckin sickening thats what it is. yeah yeah. 4 days of puking: don't through it out the window, it's an experience too. I regret nothing.

Except for missing out on school of course, feel kind of a ashamed. Missed friday and monday, in bed with fever.
Anyways, tuesdays excursion was interesting. The idee as such i thought of as being quite "so and so", yet it proved to make some interesting points about human behaviour, the power of habit, and how insignificant a new idee can be, confronted with old rules and boundaries. Did it make me think about my concept of design and interdisciplinary arts? It might have - not sure yet. But they never walked on the grass.

Disussed some violence: (if need of a translation, mail me). Would like some responses, or tips, about who's right. Make a statement.


Struggling With a Failing Heart säger:

Våldshandlingar är inte plötsliga utbrott av aggressivitet utan har historisk mening eller förankring

huggormen säger:

Nej. Våldshandlingar kan endast förklaras i sociala mönster och i en kulturell kontext, dessa i sin tur kan iofs. vara historiskt förankrade.
Det är också en fråga om diskurs och man kan behöva en stukturell analys.

Struggling With a Failing Heart säger:

Våld uppstår aldrig ur tomma intet. Människor som av en eller annan anledning engagerar sig i våld, har konkreta anledningar till varför de gör som de gör och är därmed alltid, åtminstone delvis, medvetna om vad de sysslar med.

Måste gå och lägga mig. Men när jag gör det lyssnar jag på noise: MERZBOV

Guinea pigs are feeble, pointless creatures and they don't deserve to live

I woke up rather happy this morning, started dancing my way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, only stopping for a second to say hi to the resident guinea pig. Without hesitating for a second he bit me. I now have a (horrible) wound in my hand and a strong fear of blood-poisoning. Is this the thanks i get for loving him, feeding him, giving him water, changing his shit and piss and listening to his whining all day? You can't even pet him; he only gets scared and cries like a baby.

When guinea pigs were domesticated by the Mayans in South-America they were no cute pets. They were used for rituals and as food. Today I have eaten a handful of rise and a few pears. And i have no money to buy more pears and rise. Would it be wrong of me to eat "Snuffe"?

On a happier note; today’s lecture in "Art, culture and design" was interesting, the guys from ugly/cute were cute and made a good presentation, though I wouldn't mind some more theory. I must now apparently make an amazing invention to present in the morning, but this shouldn't be a problem. I make amazing inventions every time I get drunk. Talking about drunks, I must now stop writing, Christers come home, drunk again, I can hear him mucking about in the hallway and I must take care of him before he accidentally, or on purpose, breaks something. Johanna refuses to do it; she’s in mourning, RIP Steve Irwin.

When I’ve put Christer to bed I will drink a cup of cocoa and listen to some punk rock party songs by blowfly “the world's baddest nigga” blowfly

R.I.P

Forced to Blogg.

So; after years of avoiding what I’ve always thought of as being a repulsive perversion of the old internet-diary, I am finally being forced to blog. Well Teach', (I will speak directly to you for a moment, Kami, you being the main recipient of these words)I will take this opportunity to make an exceptional blog. Starting with not addressing you directly, but rather pretending that there are hordes of people out there, hungry for my every syllable. Yes, hordes.
Tomorrow will be the start of a new era in blogging. Now I must go to bed, hoping to be brisk and spry in the morning when, hopefully, I will learn about dysfunctionality as a creative strategy.


When i go to sleep i will listen to Prettyboy Dennis Radoicic's beautiful lovesong "älskar dig", Dennis personal favourite: Denis R - Älskar dig

See ya in the morning