On Facebook, there are groups which are against facebook as a payment site. Now that is an absurdity, because that scenario would never happen. Facebook would never be able to gain as much income from individual subscribers as they do from advertisements - plus they would loose a fair amount of users - which would make advertising on facebook less attractive (fewer users to be exposed to ads). But had the option existed, I'd rather be paying a fee than be infiltrated by the ads in the right side column of my page (which by the way are of such poor quality that I consider them an offence to my intelligence).
Just take a moment to think.
When was the last time you visited an internet site free of advertisements?
Or a newspaper? A magazine? A bus? A bar? Any public space?
I am not against commercial advertisement as such, but I'd really like people to be more critically enlightened.
NOTHING IS FREE. The price of all goods and services you consume include a certain amount used for advertising of them. So ask yourself - are there no limits to the invasion?
Yes, invasion. Don't underestimate the power of images. They will infiltrate your subconscience without you even noticing. Directing your mind next time you buy a new phone, go to the super market or plan your next holiday.
There are so many words, which are the same but have different meanings in different languages. Particularly words in similar languages are tricky since you may think you know what they mean, but then it turns out you are toecrampingly wrong!
I've compiled a small list of some of the funnier ones, that I've stumbled upon. Feel free to add to it (use "comment" at the bottom of this post).
KUSSE (Dutch: Pillow. Danish: a word for the female genitalia) ROLIG (Swedish: Funny/festive. Danish: calm/quiet) KASSE (swedish - shopping bag. Danish: Box) VÄSKA/VÆSKE (Swedish: bag, Danish: fluid) BENTE (Turkish: me too. Danish: A female name) ANNE (Turkish: Mother. Most other languages: a female name)
S (nearly 3) and his dad are looking out the window. Neighbour walks by with staggering little boy by her side (unknown age, but younger than S).
S: Dad, I want to push that boy Dad: No but S, that's not nice. S: Yes, I want to push him so that he trips and falls over. Then he will cry, and I will comfort him. Then he will be happy and like me a lot.
I have always been a messy person. Somehow it just clutters up. Probably because I've never learned to put things back in place straight after use. And now maybe it's too late. Or is it possible to learn to be more orderly - or at least more organized at age 35? I'm trying out new methods. I made it into a big project - because by now everything is so cluttered that I cannot move. Not just literally, but also mentally. Every time I start someting, I stall because it requires that I clean up. Last week my bicyle was stolen. And my mobile telephone fell to the floor and broke. So I need to get in touch w. insurance. But to do that, I need the documentation for both items. Which is only possible if I find them. Which would only be possible if I started cleaning up. Because I know I have them. Somewhere. But where?
I've started my project with a new approach: I want to document my own mess, to be able see it from the outside better.
Room for room, I've filmed the mess. Now the 4 films are uploaded to youtube, and you can go see them if interested. (hard to imagine anyone would be though). I consider filming the mess as step 1 completed. If there are ANY other (desparate) messy-heads out there, I'd like you to join my project. I've shown you mine, now you show me yours. I might even give out a prize to the messiest home! But please note, it's about clutter and no extra points will be given for dirt.
SERIOUSLY! We all live in these square houses, but who decided that everybody had to live in more or less a CUBE? Why can't we think a little more "out of the box" - literally?
Since I first visited Amsterdam - at age 5 - I've had a romantic dream of living in a houseboat. But apparently the dream hasn't been strong or sincere enough. Or else I'd be living in one now. Which I might have been - hadn't it been for my terrible tendency to sea-sickness.
I've recently started to feel claustrophopic confined inside this concrete-cage of four walls with a glass front at one end. A box stacked on top of another box with other boxes over it - forming all together one big box divided in smaller cells. So I started searching my mind for memories of spaces which I had enjoyed.
TENT was what came to my mind.
As a child I've spent hundreds of nights in tents with all the other kids from our 'hood. I had agreed to sleep closest to the exit in order not to hurt the other kids so much with my violent nightly movement (some people are sleep-walkers. I'm a sleep-fighter it seems). Result: 5 kids cramped up at rear end of tent and me taking up the remaining 3/4 of the space...
But that was a stray thought. Back to serious talk of alternative housing now.
I figured it would be nice to have a tent for a home. Tents don't have to be like small triangular 2x1m with a faulty rain-cover types. People have been living in tents for thousands of years all over the world.
What - you think the hunter-gatherers of the Stone Age all lived in caves? Well no. There were more people than could be housed in caves even back then. The rest of them lived in TENTS. And did they freeze to death there? I think not. If they had, neither of us would be here today...
It is a myth that tenting is too cold in the North European climate. In Mongolia where the majority of the population live in tents (Yurts/Gers/Ghers) the temperature easily drops to minus 20C during the night. And the aboriginal Americans (also known as American Indians) of the prairies were erradicated by other means than cold from living in a teepee I tell you.
So - the logical thing for me to do was to conduct a search for tent-living information on my almighty oracle; the internet. The oracle informs me, that there are in fact communities dedicated to yurt living.
Yurt villages, yurt "enthusiasts", several D-I-Y yurt sites and books and even yurt web-shops. Unfortunately these communities are located on the utmost outskirts of the world seen from a Copenhagenoncentric point-of-view. California (of course), Mongolia (naturally) and - of all places - Tasmania. Closest community must be the UK, but still too remote for commuting daily if working in Cph...
There goes my luck in finding fellow tent-enthusiasts. Nobody to help me convince anybody that living in a tent all year is a good idea. From a comfort-point of view, as well as an echo-friendly one. Imagine all the building material saved. All the Co2 saved from truckloads of brick and concrete NOT being driven back and forth and the money saved on repairing roads damaged from all the heavy transport. And all the space saved - even a big tent will always have a smaller circumference than a house because it's walls are thinner.
So my dear urbanized fellow human beings - let's start thinking out of the boX. And check below how nice living in a tent can be if you still don't believe me
Last week I had a terrible dream. Not of the type you'd call nightmares. It was more like a small sequence as a part of a bigger dream that I don't remember. It was so disgusting that still after a week it haunts my mind. So in the hope of getting rid of it I'll write about it - and wonder if anybody ever dreamt anything remotely similar?
For some reason, I had a hole in my thigh. A large one. It was possible to access all of the insides of the thigh through it. A thick stream with chunks of soft pink flesh and lumps of potato-yellow fat splurted from the open thigh like vomit. After the thigh had been emptied for this vomit-like substance of flesh and fat, I discovered more of the pink meat and a wobbling, jelly-like transparent substance. I dug all that out with my hands (EEEW!) and wondered "what now?", because now my thigh was nearly hollow!
Then I woke up - still with a feeling of a hole in my thigh so physical, that I had to feel the area where the hole was to reaffirm that it had been a dream. A very disgusting dream.
I don't know if it's normal to have dreams of weird things happening to one's body? But I know of a girl who once dreamt that mushrooms sprowted from the skin of her back. That gave me the creeps for weeks (and still when I think about it now!)
Every once in a while, I dream my teeth are crumbling. I've read somewhere that dreams of loosing teeth has to do with a feeling of loosing strength or power - or fear of becoming old and ugly.
So what does that gross thigh dream mean??? I really haven't been able to look it up in ANY dream dictionary...
Frankly I don't believe much in dream symbolism or dreams as warnings or omens - or even as messages from the subconscience - as believed in many directions of psychology (e.g. Freudian and Jungian dream interpretation) and in religious, folkloristic or other esotheric theory. I find it more likely, as most recent neuroscientific research suggest, that the brain is processing random day fragments as well as reacting to dynamics of different actions going on in the brain at different stages of sleep.
But in spite of my belief in a neuroscientific explaination of the dream, it still motivated me to do some serious thigh-strengthening exercise. I've always had muscular thighs but now I'm seriously determined to prevent them from becoming containers of wobbling flesh-filled potato-fat vomit blubber...
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