It’s always nice to be published in print. The internet is fun, but there’s something special about old media too, looking through a magazine with your photos or works in them.
Sønnen min og jeg så «Dyrene i Hakkebakkeskogen» på førpremiere på Colosseum Kino like før jul. Det var en underholdende og spennede film med mange velskrevne og velkjente sanger. Dersom du har vokst opp i Norge i løpet av de siste 40-50 årene, så kjenner du garantert til flere av sangene.
Ganske tidlig i filmen møter vi Bakermester Harepus som, på fiffig vis, forsøker å videreformidle noe som mest sannsynlig er en gammel familieoppskrift, til lærlingen i bakeriet. Komplikasjoner oppstår raskt og uten å avsløre for mye kan jeg vel si at Thorbjørn Egner (forfatteren bak “Dyrene i Hakkebakkeskogen”) påpeker viktigheten av å lytte og å følge
In her latest post, Paula asks the question: «Mirrors do not always show the true state of things, do they?».
No, they don’t. Mirrors flip everything in a Z direction. If you’re interested in the physics behind it, you can check out Physics Girl on YouTube and her video “Why do mirrors flip horizontally (but not vertically)?”. A self-portrait is kind of like a way of mirroring yourself, but I can assure you that this digitally manipulated self-portrait does not really mirror the true state of things…
Speaking of self-portraits: For a while I’ve been contributing to a blog that posts self-portraits, but recently I got banned from this blog and all my works there got deleted. Here are the reasons and I’ve added my comments to it as well:
There have now been three instances where I have chosen to delete comments from you – twice on the blog and once on Instagram.
1. A comment lacking sensitivity towards a cross-dressing contributor.
– When I wrote the comment I misunderstood and thought that the cross-dresser was dressing up for the photo, so I wrote something like “this is hilarious and brilliant”. A few minutes later I realized that I was mistaken and immediately withdrew my comment and explained the reason.
2. ‘Woo hoo’ in response to the first full frontal female nude that I posted. You’ve told me that that’s what you say when you like something, but I found it inappropriate in this context.
– Woohoo is a compliment and besides: if a person doesn’t want feedback on his/hers photos, then they shouldn’t post them online.
3. On Instagram: The cruel treatment of battery hens is no cause for making jokes. The suffering of any sentient being is abhorrent.
Of course you are entitled to your views and opinions, but I am entitled to censor as I see fit on my sites.
– What? We’re getting offended on behalf of the chicken population of the world now? I was inspired by a comedian that made some jokes on free range chickens (Alan Carr: Tooth Fairy Live | Fowl Play | Channel 4) and wrote some hilarious comments on one of your posts with a chicken photo.
Grow the fuck up. If you can’t handle comments, you shouldn’t run a blog. Getting offended on behalf of chickens? That’s just beyond retarded.
Here’s Steve Hughes thoughts on being offended:
That’s it for today’s Thursday’s Special post.
Go check out what Paula’s up to: https://bopaula.wordpress.com/2016/06/23/thursdays-special-mirroring/
At school our teacher told us to play with fonts and gave us an assignment: replace one of the letters in any chosen word, with a symbol. (Yes, it was art school). Kjærlighet is what I came up with. «Kjærlighet» is the Norwegian word for “Love“.
Ink/pen on paper.
A positive & fresh start
I was going to write something positive about a fresh start now that we’ve turned the pages in our calendars and write 2015, instead of 2014, but there’s an endless amount of these “positive thinking, life is so fantastic, you are what you eat, spiritual guidance gave me the courage I needed to smell my own farts without choking”-blogs and quotes out there. I was looking forward to a wonderful holiday in December with 2 ½ weeks off work – the perfect end to a long and boring working year. Then, what happens? Of course I got sick and had to stay in bed / stay inside for two of those weeks. Most likely because of this bitch at work with her “high fucking work ethic” – she spent the last two weeks before the holidays, coughing around at the office, making sure to infect everyone with the flu in time for the holidays…
I mean, people like that should have been put to sleep for good – for the sake of the rest of us. When you think about it, Untermensch like that made the black plague spread and kill so many people back in the days. Disease spreading Untermensch that never understood the basic of biology, hygiene and droplet infection. Untermensch that thinks that the world will fucking stop if they don’t show up at work to perform their mundane, useless tasks. These Untermensch are the idiot fuel that an epidemic needs to grow into an epidemic in the first place. Of course I can’t say with 100% certainty that the flu came from her, because you have idiots like her everywhere: on the buses, in the elevators, in the cantina, at the supermarket… They’re all over the place. They’re also breeding and voting in elections, but I won’t start that discussion right now… Anyway it would have been great if someone could have pulled some Endlösung tricks on them.
Now it’s soon time to return to my pointless, boring, shitty job, so of course I’ve started to feel better again, but I hope that it’s just temporarily. My dream is that the fever will return and that I’ll continue to be sick for at least another couple of weeks. To be realistic, that won’t happen and the next holiday starts after 63 workdays (91 days from now), but that’s just a few days off and not really a long holiday. The next time that I’ll have more than two weeks off work, is in about 6-7 months. In other words there’s a whole lot of boring days between me and the summer holidays…
Next (mini) holiday starts after 63 workdays (91 days from now).
Thanks & respect to my most active readers in 2014: Paula | Richard Guest | themofman | Patti Kuche | vastlycurious.com
I used to write letters. This is how they could look like:
This Friday some family members came for a visit and a sleepover and on Saturday they were baby sitting, while we crossed the border over to Sweden to do some shopping for Yule/Christmas.
«Happy Anniversary with WordPress.com! You registered on WordPress.com 2 years ago!».
Cool. I wasn’t aware that I had a ‘birthday’. Ever since I started this blog I’ve tried to live up to my motto:
“quality” blogging since August 2011
I remember having a teddy bear when I was a kid. He must have led some kind of double life: while I was sleeping he must have been roaming the streets, going from bar to bar, endlessly drifting the streets. I assume he was abusing alcohol and probably also other, stronger, illegal, substances, because he was quite smelly towards the end. At the end he smelled like an old teddy bear that’s been around the block quite a few times. Like a junkie that’s been going too long without a proper bath and change of clothes (which, by the way, he never changed).
Oh, old teddy. Why did he live such a double life?
What led to his destruction?
Cute and cuddly during daytime and evenings, wild and disruptive at nights. How did he end up that way? I suspect that he also had a violent personality, or perhaps it was just self-defence? I’d like to think that he was not the type of teddy that started a fight, but I vaguely remember a couple of episodes with my older brother where they were fighting. Perhaps those episodes with violence at home planted the seeds of his nightly adventures on a downward spiral of negativity, violence and substance abuse?
In one of the bar fights he lost an ear and on another occasion he almost lost his eye. I remember that it was hanging down on his cheek, I desperately tried to push it back in place, but it wouldn’t sit. Luckily my mother took him to the teddy hospital where they stitched him up. He never looked the same again and he lost some of his charm, his personality also slowly changed, because as time passed by, he no longer had that soothing, comforting feeling that he once used to have. Or, at least I couldn’t feel it.
Sometimes I think about how he could end up like that: he came from a loving and caring home, he enjoyed all the benefits of a good teddy, but my dad neglected him and he had a few fights with my older brother. Sure, I was also angry at him at times, but we always became friends again. My older sister once abducted him into her room, but loud vocal protest (by a family member that shall remain anonymous – but I think you can all guess who..) made sure that Mr. Teddy were quickly returned.
Several years of living a double life took its toll on Mr Teddy. I’ve already mentioned that his body odour wasn’t the kindest to the nostrils. He looked old for his age, the eye that they once fixed at the teddy hospital started looking like it had some sort of sickness to it – it turned pale (perhaps cataract?), and it was obvious that life was slowly ebbing out. He had lost his once animate and lively spirit. To put it poetically I guess you can say that his seams began to burst.
Then one day our ways parted. I’m not sure exactly when, but we slowly drifted apart and we had been drifting apart for quite some time. I needed to go on with my life and I guess Teddy needed some sort of closure in his, so we decided to end it on a friendly note.
Friends come and friends go, but I will always remember Teddy.
P.S. The teddy bear in the photo is not mine, it’s just used as an illustration. Unfortunately I have no photos of Teddy.
Photo Credit: Mark Nixon. “One Eyed Ted.” Owner: Gerry Ryan. http://petapixel.com/2012/11/12/creepy-photos-of-teddy-bears-marred-from-decades-of-love/
This post was written as a comment to a post in this blog: http://tommiastablet.wordpress.com/2013/07/10/wonderful-day-national-teddy-bear-picnic-day/