It's time we face the cold hard fact that humans will never invent a time machine. Our species must certainly perish before this invention, otherwise... we'd know about it. No way buddy-boy that invents a TM could travel back and keep it a secret. Las Vegas probably has a guy specifically on the look out for time machine dudes with Sports Almanacs. Mind you, Leonardo Di Vinci could be a time machine guy - he invented a whole bunch of shit ahead of his time and having seen the Mona Lisa a few times, the best thing about the painting is wondering how the fuck it became so insanely famous.
When the 3rd Reich defeated a country, they took ownership of it and all it's assets. But when Germany lost the war, nobody took ownership of them. Sure the US and Russia made them pay in one way or another, but one must conclude it's surprising countries don't attack each other more - after all, what do they have to lose?
Took the Metro home today and at Norreport station our train was attacked entering the station by a thousand football hooligans, banging on the windows and doors. The "Kobenhavn Boys" boarded like a virus, driving families and old ladies quickly to the exit. I kept my eyes on the magical verse of the historical novel TEXAS by James A. Michener, but looked up from time to time to eyeball the happenings and file this faithful report.
I saw graffiti, destruction of property, placement of club stickers over security camera bubbles, punching of holes, drinking of alcohol (legal on Metro trains) combined with ample cigarette smoking and loud noises. Doors were broken and a window smashed but the teams of riot police in tow did nothing to stop the carnage.
The chanting was rhythmic and a smile crept to my right mouth corner as they all jumped up and down in unison, nearly driving us from the track and forcing a lengthy delay. Then came the Nazi salutes, and skinhead behavior that made things tense, at least in my own head. It felt strange to be in the middle of that mix. Quite strange indeed. I wanted to confront them, but their numbers were too strong and that's all I'll say about that.
Dressed in dark blue they did, my favorite color. Borderline black some would say. In the middle of such a group it was easy to feel their collective strength and individual insecurities. I saw the look in their eyes as they made the stiff arm German gesture and the smiles and laughter that followed. I placed myself back in time and really felt something inside. Goddamn did I want to do something. What did I have to lose?
This video below is basically the number one thing on the internet right now, so there's a good chance you've seen the hundred different spin offs. There's a nice video dedicated to the girl in the purple that just watches the whole thing without changing her expression and a video that likens the fisticuffs to a video game. But, here in it's Oakland sunshine glory is the original, no commentary required...
Remember those guys smoking joints on stage at Metropolis in Montreal and thinking they were the next big long time thing. Isn't it amazing how bands that come and go get plenty of attention as "one hit wonders" but film directors that make incredible work and fade into oblivion do so in obscurity? "Deer Hunter" director Michael Cimino did fuck all after that masterpiece and nobody said boo. My favorite movie growing up, "Arthur", directed by Steve Gordon was his last effort and again, nobody is the wiser. Why is it that for musicians it takes one three minute song to become a household name, but for filmmakers, you could spend a year making a two hour masterpiece and fall off a cliff the next day and nobody would notice?
Today I'm researching a documentary on Jenkem, a popular street drug in Zambia which consists of mixing piss and shit and letting it ferment for a week. Some say the high is even better than glue. So there you go.
Alexander McQueen has taken his own life. The fashion designer they called "enfant terrible" until only a few years ago is gone. What's the deal here? Usually drugs, right? But what does that mean? Drugs? Was he out of drugs? He had lots of money, he could probably get some more.
Apparently this is the first real winter in Denmark in fourteen years. There's snow on the ground and everything, which for these fucking morons means they actually have to communicate with other humans, something they're loathe to do and have no inherent capacity for. Take this morning on my walk to the office. I stopped to help a car stuck in the snow. Three men pushing a BMW, no problem. Except the burly dudes I was pushing with didn't know about the "rocking" thing. They just pushed. I'm willing to overlook this stupidity as it's based on a lack of experience. I stopped the team and made the rocking motion and less than ten seconds later the car was moving like it was pulled by a team of six white horses.
Of course, as he's being pushed into traffic, two cars try to drive by in opposite directions - a pretty tight fit. They saw our predicament and sped up, as the notion of courtesy has never and will never exist here. Also, these Danes love squeezing into tight places. They love it. I often wonder if the whole appeal of sticking a dick into an asshole is just about this fascination of cramming big things into small places. Anyways... that same instinct was at work as we pushed this car into the road that was filled with fast moving cars. In a very small space, there was a fuckload of cars and people... a real tight fit if you know what I'm saying. No accident, but pretty damn close.
I wonder if any of my childhood friends are dead? I used to run with a pretty tweaked out bunch of fellers - the cream of the cream of the cream of the nerd crop. Some serious dolts of which I was without question the super-nerd. Wouldn't be surprised to find Nils Ozolins died twisting his ankle playing Nintendo tennis or James Berry got caught cheating in Atlantic City and was thrown out a hotel window. Of all the toolboxes I've known, someone's got to have bit the bucket.
Speaking of dying, I'm heading to a remote island in Denmark this Friday to do a documentary on Satanism. The 3.5 hour ferry to Anholt (google map it for a laugh) doesn't operate on the weekend, so we're stuck there until Monday. I'm fucking scared shitless.
Walked by the same travel agency and had to stop and look again at this awesome brochure on Canada. The mountie has the fucking hugest mustache and a grin that could only be described as severely homosexual. If there's an abundance of gay Danes traveling to the Canadian wilderness in 2010, getting eaten alive by the three bears and climbing trees, I've got the smoking gun.
