The Nation has a long article containing inverviews with U.S soldiers that were stationed in Iraq. You want to read it: thenation.com
“As an American, you just put your hand up with your palm towards somebody and your fingers pointing to the sky,” said Sergeant Jefferies, who was responsible for supplying fixed checkpoints in Diyala twice a day. “That means stop to most Americans, and that’s a military hand signal that soldiers are taught that means stop. Closed fist, please freeze, but an open hand means stop. That’s a sign you make at a checkpoint. To an Iraqi person, that means, Hello, come here. So you can see the problem that develops real quick. So you get on a checkpoint, and the soldiers think they’re saying stop, stop, and the Iraqis think they’re saying come here, come here. And the soldiers start hollering, so they try to come there faster. So soldiers holler more, and pretty soon you’re shooting pregnant women.”
Jan Pilgaard, the up and coming maverick director, was graceful enough to let me take part in his latest production as a stills photographer. Two days of loitering and taking so many rolls of film you would not believe, (Yeah, I know, film, in this day and age) if you’re unable to believe any number higher than 20. Fun, but leaves me thinking I should do more. So I’ve decided to start doing porn-art; the worst of two worlds, or the best, depending on your disposition.
Also, there is a sky over Gothenburg, and we have birds, and occasionally family that visits and anti-nato grafitti:
A while ago we were on a roof, drinking wine and discussing good sniper positions for two hours. My insight into proper sniperish behaviour is exclusively derived from movies and camping in Ghost Recon, so obviously I’m an authority:
At a certain point in the evening I became, against my better judgement, involved in some sort of vegan debate. This spectacles are more often than not unfruitful and leave me bitter and with yet another dead body to dispose of. Judging from my gesturing and Petters cowering/laughing, it’s easy to surmise that whatever I said about vegan hot-dogs was brilliant, and whatever anyone else said they can stfu and keep to themselves:
Todays theme: It’s too warm! It’s too cold! It’s raining! I’m tired and my body aches!
It’s usually considered rather lame physically challenged to post just one youtube video in a post, but this is a bloody brilliant song. I’ve been playing it continuously the past two days. If only Andrew Thompson would offer a non-DRM version to buy online…
As if it wasn’t hard enough to come across as a normal person when you’re vegan, there are now proclaimed vegansexuals. Read and weep: news.independent.co.uk
A guy in Iraq is recording a song, and someone fires through his window. He finds it funny, everyone else is depressed: http://nabilsblog.blogspot.com.
Make sure to follow the link to the recording itself.
Anna celebrated her mumblemumle‘th birthday with a dinner in the yard. Sound carries like a bitch there, and I’m certain that we entertained all neighbours with our tales of chivalry and hello-kitty-dildos.
As usual, vegan food is regular food sans everything not vegan:
I’m going through a slightly antagonistic phase at the moment.
Recently, i’ve been enlarging the font size on webpages because my eyes seem tired and can’t focus. My eyesight might be going down or I’m drinking too much coffee.
The only contact I have with women is giving them price information while at work. All the bathing is for nothing.
The homepage that I’ve been sketching at is still not done, and the more I think about it the less content there is that I actually want to put online – if a tree falls in the forest and you’re too uninterested to take it’s picture, are you still a photographer?
My social life revolves around playing chess at Kellys every thursday.
Fuck-fuckity-fuck. I’m bored, and 2007 was supposed to be the year I would not be bored. I’ll just write the year off, shall I?
