You anti-semantic bastard!

I just realized I've started the last three blog headers with "A". Shame on me.

Correct language usage is a big deal to me. Part of it comes from my mother, who is a teacher (of Swedish, English, French and general good manners) and part of it comes from me being the obsessive know-it-all that I am.

Some years back (I was going to write "a few", but then I looked at the website and realized it hasn't been active since 2003...) I was part of an online community against "särskrivning". Can't think of a proper term in English, since the phenomenon itself stems from Swedish words that are usually written as one word being separated into two since that's the way it's done in English. Hard to explain unless you're a native. The website is still online, but not active. I am still, though.

Not sure where I'm going with this...more than to acknowledge the fact that I'm a know-it-all. Oh well, most of you are probably very much aware of this fact already.

Anywho, I will leave you with this excellent sign I saw the other day. 'tis in Swedish. And mostly for Ellie.

A clean house is a sign of a wasted life

Two things learned today that I already knew. Now I know them even better.

1. Children should be kept on leashes or in cages. If they’re uncivilized little barbarian children, that is. Blood was almost spilled today. Mark my words.
2. Ice cream cures most conditions of the soul.

Three times today, I’ve looked over at the living room window and thought “Oh, it’s raining”, only to realize seconds later that it’s not rain drops on the window, but the spattered brains of a Yule gnome. Long story. And yes, it’s August, and yes, we still haven’t cleaned the windows since December. We’re heathens as well as slobs. Yay for us!

A condom is the glass slipper of our generation

I’ve made some observations today and while on vacation. A few truths/opinions/whatever I felt I needed to share with y’all. Enjoy.

- There’s a certain breed of sixteen year old girls, with hair bleached blond beyond anything nature could come up with, usually dressed in sweatpants, that should be eradicated from the face of the Earth.
- The perfect soundtrack to a rainy Stockholm is Cult of Luna’s “Eternal Kingdom” or Portishead’s self-titled second album.
- My own pillow trumps away-pillow any day of the week.
- If Heaven exists and I have been a good enough boy to get there (which isn't likely), Chokladfabriken will be the official supplier of dessert at the all you can eat buffet.
- There’s a substantial difference between “penetrating” and “penetrated”, a difference I almost experienced today. Long story short, I almost had an intimate moment with a gear stick.
- Stellan Skarsgård has six children. Excellent. He has filled my quota as well.
- The vending machines at the supermarket contain everything you need for a weekend that begins well but ends horribly. Except alcohol.

A Clockbeard Orange

I find myself fascinated by the concept of clockwork mechanisms and automata. I’ve wanted to write a story featuring those for quite some time, but haven’t found the time or the inspiration for it.

To find that inspiration, I keep coming back to this. The first known mechanical computer, dated to about 150 B.C.

The Antikythera Mechanism in all it's rusted glory

The idea that the ancient Greeks (or whoever built it) possessed the know-how to construct a mechanical computer almost 2200 years ago is mind-boggling. The degree of mind-boggledness (new word) depends on who you ask, though…

I read Graham Hancock’s Fingerprints of the Gods about ten years ago, and found it to be a combination of interesting maths and facts, and absolute madness. is theory is that there was some kind of ur-civilization from which all the ancient civilizations (Egyptians, Mayans, Sumerians, etc) sprang. There’s a fine line between genius and insanity. I need to reread it soon.

This conversation…is over

Snippets of conversation today.

Me: “Are those cows or horses?” (driving)
Mah Girl: (looking over, trying to discern what I’m talking about)
Me: “Cows. Horses. Horses? Cows!”

Once again proof that I do know my moo-cows from my horsieses.

Me: “How come the timer isn’t moving?” (staring at the archaic microwave)
Mah Girl’s father: (walks up and pushes the “start” button. Microwave starts) “Maybe that was too technical for you?”

A rather technical geekboy upstaged by a 65-year old man. Oh the shame.

Mah Girl: “Look at that orange room!”
Me: “Where?” (driving, intent on the rain-soaked road)
Mah Girl: (sighs) “Too late. But it looked like our living room.”
Me: “So not orange. Terracotta.”
Mah Girl: “Yeah. I only said orange to piss you off.”
Me: “I know. I said terracotta to let you know I know you wanted to piss me off.”
Mah Girl: (smile) “I know.”

We’re so much alike it’s scary.

And the quote of the day:

You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.
- Ray Bradbury

The smell of sunshine

I don’t get to drive much. We don’t have a car, since we live close to both bus and train and don’t have kids to transport. Basically it’s an unnecessary cost for us. Now we’ve rented a car for the week, and yesterday we spent six and a half hours driving the 230 kilometers from Flemingsberg to Karlskoga.

And no. I didn’t drive 35 kilometers per hour. We made a few stops and took a few detours. Going outside those tunnels.

We had planned to go to the zoo in Eskilstuna to watch some felines (they have tigers, cougars, snow leopards, etc) but that didn’t happen. Instead we took an unexpected right turn, following a sign to Taxinge Castle. Now, to me, a castle obviously isn’t the same thing as to the designers of Taxinge, but whatever. It was a nice detour even so. There was a Tim Burtonesque tree in the garden. And the café at the castle had a dessert table six meters long. Mmm….cake…

We kept to the back roads and off the highway for a while longer, stopping off at an antique store housed in a massive barn, full of furniture, old photos and less identifiable stuff. Eerie forties music emanated from cracked speakers. We bought a beautiful old wooden box, intended for three square bottles. Very nice.

At Arboga, we choose the smaller road again, and turned into the town itself when mah girl spotted what appeared to be an old water tower. Turned out it was St Nicolai’s church, with foundations and stone walls from the 13th century. Cool.

St Nicolai's church

For a while we were Lost in Arboga (Danger, Beard Robinson!), but got out safely. Phew! Made a few more stops on the way to snap pics.

Mah girl down by the water. Little fish, big fish...

Turns out I walked around with an airline luggage label on my ass from yesterday morning when we packed until six o'clock at night. Bravo.

Upon arrival at my parents’ place in Karlskoga, I realized the werewolf children are all grown up. Time flies. Next door a whole pride of kittens gallivanted about on the lawn. We played some cards, and cursed the heat (a recurring theme over the past few weeks).

Today it’s raining (laptop and DVD weather! Yay!) and a pie has been made.

Glory, glory, hallelujah!

Life is good. Except for the earwigs. Earwigs suck.

Road trip playlist

Bat For Lashes


Clutch


Tori Amos


Nine Inch Nails


Woven Hand


White Zombie


Tool