Tuesday, 30 March 2010

Voldemort vs Harry Potter

I had history class today, and as always when studying the second world war (or is it Second World War?), my wonderful, completely and utterly mad but wonderful teacher Mr Nugent (Miss-tur New-gent) finally came to the topic of HITLER AND THE JEWS.
As the 1.3 people who actually read what I bother writing know, Alex (known on blogspot as Morrie) and I are in the same school, grade, and guess fucking what? Same history class. Thus, the combination of both these unfocused, totally ADD minds brought into the sunlight (or cloudy gray light) this brilliant idea:
Wait no, that's not it.


Being a worshipper of the gods of linguistics and literature, of course I was an avid Harry Potter fan when I was younger (which was about 2 years ago to be quite honest) and well, I still am, though I must say that linguistically and literature-wise Harry Potter is in no way a masterpiece but those irrelevant uninteresting matters aside-
My mind tends to stray a lot (if you can't tell) and strayed again today. Voldemort and Hitler. I discussed it for about 2 minutes and 38 seconds with Alex, after which I promptly shut up due to the yells from Mr Nugent (SHHHHHHHHHHHH!).
However, the thought was not dismissed and, AND it continued. Alex created a brilliant list of similarities between Voldemort and Hitler, of which I completely approve. Here we go.

  • Had Jewish blood from his fathers side, contributing to his hate of Jews
  • Hated his father
  • Rejected by art schools
  • Had funny hair and moustache (mustache? moostache? moostash.)
  • Considered the purest Aryans to be the most superior humans, and then the mixed Aryans, then other white people (haha), then last and for him, least, the gypsies, gays, reta handicapped, jews, blacks, etc. Including popes and stuff.
  • Jews are impure, and wanted to pollute the Aryan race by interbreeding
  • Jews denied the right to go to school
  • Made a huge Nazi army
  • Befriended organisations to get support and then betrayed them
  • Concentration camps
  • Wanted to take over the world
  • Second World War
  •  Father was a muggle, thus contributing to his hatred of muggles/mudbloods/etc.
  • Hated his father
  • Denied a teaching possision at Hogwarts by Dumbledore
  • No hair and funny nose
  • Considered purebloods the supreme race, then halfbloods, and condemned muggles, mudbloods, squibs, etc.
  • Muggles/mudbloods etc. are impure, and wanted to pollute the pureblood race by interbreeding 
  • Mudbloods denied right to go to school
  • Huge Death Eater army
  • Befriended creatures (giants? need I say more?) and then betrayed them
  • Kidnapped people and then tortured them and/or killed them
  • Wanted to take over the world
  • War, ending in an epic battle at Hogwarts
Thus, in conclusion
And what an insult to Hitler. One of the most horrible terrible awful very bad villains in children's book history was inspired by him. Awful awful Hitler.
But seriously.

This is basically what JK Rowling did:
Wanted to kill:

So what did we learn today?


Note: this post is in NO WAY offensive. I have both jewish, gypsy as well as gay (if that's possible) blood and if you've been offended.. well, quite frankly- you're stupid and I don't give a fuck.

Monday, 29 March 2010

Stuffing birds

I've erased what I was going to write at least 5 times now. There's something I want to say but I'm not sure I can make it sound interesting enough. To be quite honest, it's not interesting, and therefore doesn't need to sound interesting.
I wish I could write about something interesting. But the only thing I really know is myself and what I know, and trust me I don't know that much.
But I do want to address something. This is the state of being-thyselfism. Or that's what I shall call it.


I'm going to tell you a little secret. No one cares who you are. Now, it sounds much more depressing than it really is. No one cares if I like indie or if I like rap, no one cares if I like pink or if I like black. So I guess what I'm getting at is you might as well keep it simple, that way you don't need to keep track of your lies.
Though lies are sometimes all you can do. Lie. Like this amazing book by Mr Stephen Fry

Whom I, by the way, adore.
I'm not sure where we'd all be without lies. No more politics. No more religion. No more... doubt.
But there would be so much more cruelty. Imagine all those nasty thoughts inside your head, they're all out in the open. Imagine how many people are going to be hurt.
Imagine no politics. In a sense politics are kind of like religion. It's a system greater than yourself put there by people "greater than yourself" to keep you in order. To give you the illusion of choice, of freedom, of care. To give you rules to follow, guidelines that you compete for like schoolkids compete for grades. Who's the most pure, who hasn't strayed. Your criminal record is like your purity rings, or whatever it is they wear- you're clean and pure and innocent.
Not that I'm saying go do criminal things, go go go, because that's not at all what I'm saying.
I don't know what I'm saying.
I guess what I'm saying is it's not a contest, and that it's a lie. But it might be something we need. Talking about government and politics here, not religion, for that's something I find completely useless and purely harmful for all living forms of... life.
Anyway, go and do whatever you like. That's the best.

/end random tangent

Sunday, 28 March 2010


Less scary images due to request by Timmy.
Feels weird though, these are all beautiful and great and I love flowers and things. I really do, I'm a girl after all but...
I like... odd. Sometimes.
I like... circus. And old. Old and vintage. I like black and white. I like beautiful. But I also like ugly. I like red. And orange, yellow, blue and green. And every colour of the rainbow.

I like flowers. I like white flowers, and snow. I like snow too but more than snow I love summer. I could live in summer. I like hyper moments and chaos for a minute. I like not being there all the time, and then being there all the time.

I like physical contact. I like fun. I like sex. I like alcohol. I like drugs, and I like my tobacco. I like fire and passion and speed. I like slow, sweet and mellow. I like maps, and I like road trips. I like burgers, Indian food, loud music and thunder. I like stars.

I like remembering things, but I like forgetting them also. I like feelings. I like getting caught up in feelings, but I hate drama. I hate gossip. Go gossip elsewhere. I love stealing away for those little moments I can remember. Or forget. I like water. I like sun and water, so I like the beach. I like love, and I like painting. I like painting love, a lot. I take photos, and I play songs (of course not well at all). I like salt and sugar and chili but I hate pepper.
And they say I like nothing at all.

Though I couldn't resist putting the last one on there

Friday, 26 March 2010

Fridays are a joy

When I take tram number 20 or 25 in the morning, I go straight past a canal. I don't know if it's exactly a canal, but it's too small to be a river, and too big to be a stream, so the Canal it shall be. The Canal is surrounded by green, and modern art sculptures that even I, with my mind, don't understand. Bridges run over it, and pigeons swim around in it. A wrinkly, crooked tree is mourning over it. It's ignoring the bright sun, finally warming this place. The water is like liquid mercury. It's perfectly still. Not a ripple, not a sigh, nothing. I can see the perfect reflection of the tree, and the sculptures, and myself as I pass in the tram.

I especially like Fridays because I have 3 free periods, and then something we all call "TOK". TOK is a myth that only very very very gullible people believe. It's a lie. Kind of like god, except not that big.
Fridays are what I call my up days. Fridays and Thursdays sometimes too. Today my up day was spent swinging on swings, skipping TOK and smoking 2 joints and 2 packs of fags. Today was a good day. Except I got home, and paranoid as I was, threw away my last 3 fags and my crappy lighter. Nothing happened though. Nothing.

Yesterday I saw birds. The birds weren't there. They were produced by a mix of dehydration, period pain, passing out, paracetamol and hash (the tiniest amount though, so I'm convinced that the birds were due to other things). They flew in perfect patterns, one after the other. I saw them greet me after waking up in the school concierge's car. When I got out they weren't there. Wasn't the weed though, wasn't.

I got to find out my grades today as well. Finally. The school had sent them to the wrong address. Some poor bastard probably wondered who these funny named people are (Kristiina, Veli-Matti, what kinds of names are those?).
Here we go.
  • Math HL ... 5
  • Art HL ... 7
  • English A1 HL ... 7
  • French B SL ... 6
  • Biology SL ... 7
  • History SL ... 7
  • TOK ... 4
Except like I explained, TOK is a lie, and therefore is not counted.
Altogether: 39 points
Not bad for someone like me, I think. I'm quite content.
I'm 3 points away from a perfect score. But they'll go down. Biology will at least, of that I'm positive. I'm crap at biology. And logic. And math.

I think I need some cranberry juice now, and some Bridget Jones.

Wednesday, 24 March 2010

Telling you things even I don't know

It's been a day. Or two days. I'm not sure.
I've been wanting to tell this story for a while.
And I think today's the day.

When I was 8 I lived in Sweden for a year. I lived with my brothers and my father and a nanny. Or au-pair as you call them these days. My mother wasn't there, she was too preoccupied with her bars and lesbians. My next door neighboar, a selfish fat prat, used to steal my videos and my playdoh. It's okay though, because at night I would water the streets so her little chalk pokemon would be washed away.

Now this is not meant to be a "woe is me" story, and indeed it's not, because I don't regret a second.

My nanny was an alcoholic. She called herself Laura and had real snickers in her hair. She gave me a bath once and told me about periods, and that was the only time anyone had mentioned it to me until the day I got mine. After St Patrick's day she'd sleep on the sofa, with her beer-belly hanging off and her snickers all tangled up, one leg on the floor and tell me to please darling, get me some ciggies from your father won't you? and I do. When I came back she was on the floor, this time with one leg still on the sofa. Sometimes she'd forget to take us to school, my brothers and me. We would get to the British International Primary School of Stockholm at 11am and go home at 6pm. Then one day I got home and she wasn't there. She was never there again.

My dear brother, silly little thing, glued chairs. He pressed pencils in there and spread glue with a glue stick all over it. He wrote his name on them, and no one could sit on his chair. The one with his name on it. He ran into the garden and shat on the tulips. He cut the hair off my barbies and flushed them down the toilet, which is okay because I preferred crawling in the forest with snails and things, pretending to be whatever I wanted to be right then and there. He watched Lion King over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over. Until the tape broke.

When I was 8 I had my first crush. His name was Alexander, and he was British. He was a little nerd like me, very interested in videogames. I decided to tell him, and I wrote it in the ground. He ran away, and I've never been able to tell anyone since.

At school we also had the best market system. We had tables, and things for sale. Real nice things too, like Pokemon cards, necklaces, games, everything a kid wants. But the best thing of all- the currency was peach and plum stones. I never had any, I never got peaches or plums and the ones in the schoolyard were gone by the time I got to school (which was around 11am, as I said before) so I never got to buy anything, but I was amazed nonetheless at the way it worked. And it worked. We (or they, rather) traded, bought, sold, negotiated, bargained, argued and compromised. Peach stones were worth more than plum stones, and dirty stones were worth less than clean ones. I wish that still worked.

Funny how all I remember is the autumn. I remember gold and red, yellow and brown. I remember the bad nanny, vodka bottles, balloons and rotting wood, glue sticks and peach stones and powerpuff girls and Harry Potter. I remember onions and Dinosaurier and playdoh sticks and cheesy gift CDs from Burger King. And then I don't remember.
Then I don't remember anything at all.

But none of it matters. None of this matters anymore. Because I'm not 8, and I'm not in Sweden and I can't do what I want to do. Things don't work like that. Like someone said to me today, nothing matters when you're sober. It's all whatever.

Tuesday, 23 March 2010


Wilhelminaplein is where it's at, yo. Or where I'm at anyway. Some pictures, because it's really, very beautiful.
This is all within 500m from my house, so it really is like this. I didn't go around trying to find the best-looking spots in Rotterdam ;D

And that's where I live. Those ugly little brown box houses there. Well, I live in one of them. Not all. Obviously.

Sunday, 21 March 2010

Poop poop

The Importance of Being Ernest
by Oscar Wilde

Walden by Henry David Thoreau

Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame

Slaughter-House Five by Kurt Vonnegut

Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson

Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende (Don't watch the movie, it's awful).

Ei, siis Kyllä by Paavo Haavikko (Finnish only).

PS. alex/xander.

Thursday, 18 March 2010


It's coming. It's opening the door slowly, it's an old creaky, big oak door with rusty hinges. It smells of dust and fresh flowers and kicks up a powder storm as it comes in. The sun floods in and you can finally see, stop shivering and feeling sorry for yourself and hating this goddamn freezing country and begin to like it again.
But, it's different now. I love spring. I love spring. Except that I walk around looking like a crack addict from all the allergy meds I take, but I love spring.
Still, there's something that's missing. I don't feel it.
I'm missing something.

Wednesday, 10 March 2010


I'm having doubts as to whether the movie Doubt was supposed to be a joke or not. I can sum up this whole film in one sentence:
A nun finds out a priest is a paedophile and gets him to resign.
That's it. There are three good things about this film.
  • Mery Streep's acting
  • Overall acting
  • Opening credits
Other than that, the film is 1 hour and 15 minutes of Meryl Streep yelling at the priest, a nun, random children and the black kid's mum. The last 25 minutes consist of Meryl Streep guilttripping the paedophile priest, the priest resigning, and Meryl Streep crying. And about that, why the hell does she cry anyway?
"Oh Sister James, I had such doubts!" I'm guessing she's talking about god, but since she gives no explanation whatsoever we can't be sure. That statement also contradicts everything else Meryl Streep has said in the whole film, summarised in: "I HAVE MY CERTAINTY!" Why add that in? To make her seem vulnerable? I don't want to see vulnerable nuns, I want to see a badass Meryl Streep nun kicking paedophile ass.
The mother of the black kid (who's the one being eyeballed by the paedo-priest) seemed to think it was good for her son to be molested, and little innocent Sister James believed everything anyone told her. I bet you the paedo-priest could have walked up to her, told her that Meryl Streep is an escaped mental patient and she would have believed it. What a creep.
Other than that, I'm pretty sure the molested black kid said about 4 words in the whole film. The only thing I remember him saying is "You think I'm fat".
The only really good character through and through was the blind nun who got hit with branches. We all know we love to see old blind nuns getting hit with branches.
What sucks the most is that this had the potential to be such a good movie, despite my distaste of church/christians/religion.
1.5 out of 5.

Monday, 8 March 2010

Computers are not alive

Today we had a great discussion in TOK (Theory of Knowledge for all you non-IB kids, basically a class so full of bullshit you're wondering where all the bulls at), about the hierarchy of life in the future. My smart-ass teacher decided to provoke the issue of "Can computers be considered living things?".
NO. They can't. I'm going to tell you why.
As someone who does biology, I can tell you the 6 properties of living things

  • Ability to maintain a stable internal state (temperature etc.).
  • Being composed of one or more cells.
  • Consuming energy, and decomposing matter
  • They grow at some point in their life time
  • Change, or evolution. In other words, living things evolve over time.
  • Reproduction
Now, I may be missing something but I'm pretty fucking sure that other than maintaining a semistable internal state (via fans and stuff) and consuming energy (and money for that matter) a computer has none of the other properties. A computer is not made of cells, living things are made out of cells. A computer is made out of atoms and molecules, not cells. It does not have DNA.
Neither does a computer grow. My computer is now the same exact size it was 2 years ago. I don't know what you're tripping on, sir, but unless you're on some serious drugs, shrinking, or in need of a shrink, computers do not grow.
Neither do they evolve. Yeah I know, my laptop now is better than that piece of crap they used in the 70's. That box however, did not make little computer babies that made more computer babies and more computer babies until you get my amazing stud of a computer. No. Wrong.
My computer does not need water, which is "essential to all living things". It doesn't poop. It doesn't die. And no, crashing does not mean dying- we can still fix it. Unless you blow that shit up it's fixable, and if nothing happened to it it wouldn't die. We get viruses sure, and so do they but seriously? Is that all we've got?
So yeah, maybe I'm thinking "inside a box" but at least I'm not fucking retarded.

Sunday, 7 March 2010


I've been looking for a lot of music nowadays, and I've come across some that make my brain melt, and my heart beat faster. Some calm me down and some make me wish I lived on the moon, with a small solar powered arm chair, and that particular song blasting.
So for those who wish, here's a pretty awesome list. I've included the best song by that particular band (in my opinion) as well.

Some of you might know them from the hit e4 tv show, Skins. Specifically the song "When You Leave" which played somewhere in the 3rd season I think. However this band, and particularly this song is a beautiful and mellow shoegazing... almost ballad. Listen to it high and you'll fly, listen to it sober and you still will.

Air Traffic
It's got a snazzy sound. Kind of a I want to dance with you vibe. Reminds me a bit of the Killers, but just a bit. Good tunes to check out are Charlotte and Never Even Told Me Her Name.

Delay Trees
This is one of the only bands that I actually paid 2e for. I got 2 songs, and man they were worth it. The band calls itself a melodramatic popular indie band, and yet they haven't even reached 100 000 views on myspace. It doesn't matter to me, these Finnish boys make me proud. Check out Tarantula and Coral Wind.

Future of the Left
Alternative band from Wales. They've got a bit of a heavy sound, so not something I'd listen to every day but I find it enjoyable nonetheless. Good song: "Arming Eritrea".


The Go! Team
Introduced to me by my friend Theji. They're an indie/alternative/noise rock band from somewhere in the UK- not that it matters. A great song to listen to when wanting to jump around and be happy, and life can't get much better than this is "Huddle Formation". "The Ice Storm" is my favourite though. Also check "Grip like a vice".

"Just like them" and "Air conditioned heart"

Louis XIV
Post-punk revival/indie rock band from California, they've got the garage sound. The I don't really care if you like us or not, but we're damn good feel. They've got the guitar, and the almost talking when singing, and the almost random yells in the background. Then we get the husky girl/boy singing the chorus. Sounds cheap, might be so, but it sounds good. "Finding out true love is blind" and "Air traffic control".

"Revlon 9"

Portugal, the Man
Thanks to Irene for this. "Colours" and "Sugar Cinnamon".

So there's a few. I might randomly put some of these up sometime. But they're all good good good songs and all. So check it.

Friday, 5 March 2010

Hey hi
I just want to tell you that I do kind of like you
Maybe I really like you, I don't really know yet but I know I do
I get kind of excited when I see you
And I want you to smile and I want you to come outside
I kinda wanna touch you
I just want to say hi I think we should go out sometime
Hey you should come for a drink after school or maybe
Hi I like the way you look today
Hi I been looking forward to seeing you all week or
Hi you hungry? Let's go get some pizza from turkse pizza or maybe
if you want we could try the surinaamse place?
Hey I want to fuck you or just
Hey I like you.
Hi how are you?