life is local

By the votes of 9-8, the disgraceful HUS management is closing down the Ekenäs/Tammisaari maternity hospital. HUS is a powerful hospital conglomerate of Southern Finland, and the Ekenäs maternity hospital is under their “jurisdiction”, so to speak. The man(agement) has been trying to do this since the 1990s, and the only reason it took them so long, is that the Ekenäs BB, as we like to call it here, is commonly known as the very best maternity hospital in Finland.

Ekenäs BB was the first in the country to receive the status of Baby Friendly by the World Health Organization. The lovely women of Ekenäs BB have long worked hard to develop innovative quality and family values. The hospital is known for giving breast feeding top priority, and they have advanced views on non-medical painrelief. It is a place to feel safe in. They not only welcome the mother-to-be, but the whole family to stay for the whole experience, and they do not just throw the mother out the following day. Their reputation preceeds borders, as rich Russians and Baltic families come here to give birth.

On a personal level, I was born at the Ekenäs BB. My brothers were born here. My friends were born here. The children of my friends were born here. Even though my daughter Scarlett was born in a private hospital in another country, it was my wish for her to be born here.

The dark question remains – why did they close it down, when it so clearly should have been treasured and awarded instead? If the reasons remain fuzzy to me, it is probably because they are. Who gives a fuck about economy when the well-being of children is at hand? To go and destroy this precious baby culture, built by lots and lots of love over a long period of time, makes my blood boil.

You don’t have to look hard to find rampant jealousy. The hidden rage many Finnish people harbour for the swedish-speaking minority, for one, as the Ekenäs BB was one of the few places left were you were treated to both official mother tongues.
The Ekenäs BB was run by women for women, which also certainly helps to explain why it was so dearly loved. The male majority of HUS, it appears, on some level, were unable to come to terms with this.

The little people have been fucked over again. There is simply something inherently wrong with the world, if you have to run it like a business.

Thieves.

is it wicked not to care?

Is it wicked not to care, when people die in Gaza? I have absolutely nothing in my bag for Israel, and none more for Hamas. The fact that the most ravaged region in the world is at the same time supposed to be the most sacred region in the world [Judaism, Christianity, and Islam] speaks volumes about the ridiculous lunacy of man at his blindest.

The biggest fools always seem to hail from Teheran, though. When this latest – not last – episode of anti-humanity kicked off between Israel and Palestine, over 70.000 Iranian students offered to volunteer for suicide bomber duty. Seventy-thousand!

Unreal, for real. Imagine seven times the population of my hometown strapping Semtex to their chests, all willing to die not for their own, but for some other dusty country far away. What is there in martyrdom that I can not see for the life in me? What if there is no pussy in paradise? Is it cruel of me to point out that there might very well not be? Fine, don’t listen to the atheist.
By the way, what if you are a female suicide bomber? [The potential answers to that question amuse me considerably.]

Anyway, I stray – back to the little strip along the Mediterranean, which could be a lovely beach was it not laced with morons + guns. Hate breeds hate. It is something you said in college to sound all Gandhi when girls were listening – but despite your shady motives, you were speaking common sense.
What we have here is the perpetual motion device at its most effective, going back and forth in everlasting punches.

You know, just from writing “Arab” and “Jew” in the same sentence, sparks shoot out from my keyboard…

ooh-bama

Oh, you have earned the stars on the banner now! My faith in the American people has truly been resurrected. No longer are you, in my book, a bunch of loud idiots with chocolate cereal for brains. You have proved to me, finally, that your definition of freedom is more than a waistband that never breaks.
Thank you, thank you, for coming to your senses. I salute your savvy with gravy. Your land is grand.

Fact is, I love the United States of America. I always have, ever since Rocky ran the steps in Philly. The way you believe that anything is possible is really rather naive, yet absolutely and perfectly intoxicating. I continue to fall for it; like it was a silly movie made by the dream factory, I have once again come away short of breath, pumping my fists and shouting WOOHOO!

Cinderella, always walk with me.

Obvious as can be, Obama is the black JFK – but don’t let it jinx him. Today I trust the world. Today I’m warm and fuzzy. Today, I am an American. Tomorrow? Well, there is always unyielding hope. Time to take the talk for a walk. But you see that sign? Watch out. Bumpy road ahead.

bahama mama obama panorama

The fate of the world is being decided tomorrow. Vote for change. Vote Obama. Yes, vote Obama, if only for the reason to stop that Palin woman. Vote Obama, even if some nutcase will shoot him shortly afterwards. Vote Obama, despite your inability to see the obvious. But perhaps you hate your children?

Should McCain win, I feel forced to boycott everything American. I’ll quit my job at Sealed Air. I’ll stop listening to Elvis and Bruce Springsteen. I’ll never have another slice of apple pie. I’ll trash everything Microsoft. I’ll burn my copies of On The Road. I’ll refuse Hollywood. I’ll join Al-something. I’ll call Larry Flynt. I’ll pee on the stars and stripes. I’ll write a book called The Audacity Of Hopeless.

Politik-Polis will be back with the regurgitation. In the meanwhile, go see Nailin’ Palin.

fucked over by Fortum

I’m middle class and I’ve had it! We built the world, we can take it apart!

Are you paying attention now? It has long been my opinion that speculation on the stock market is the root to, if not all, then at least 99% of all evil in the world. Once a perfectly good company goes public, all semblance to decency and goodwill is thrown out the window, and only the perverted allegiance to stockholders remain. And that is before the manipulation begin…

In truth, I was almost hoping the financial crisis would blow up like the big bad waterballoon it is. For once, I wanted to see the real criminals of this world burn in righteous fire. I wanted to see hedge fund managers leap out the windows in synchronized suicide, splatter all across Wall Street.
But lo and no – states all over the world stumbled over themselves to bail the poor billionaires out. My only comfort was the collapse of Lehman Brothers. Ha and jubilant ha.

Richard Fuld, Lehman Brother CEO, pocketed $484 million since 2000, continued to steer bonuses even as he was pleading for federal resources. Darth Vader was a rather nice chap after all, if you compare him with Richard Fuld. I feel sick just forming his name with my fingertips. Why not drop him off in a poor neighborhood, see what happens?

Tragically, we have a Richard Fuld in Finland too. He is Mikael Lilius, Fortum CEO, a disaster, a disgrace, and a pie in his face.
This is where my shoe hurts: I just received notice of the latest increase in prices. The last one came in August. All in all, the price on electricity has now gone up a fourth in one year. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like paying for his fucking sailing boat anymore. I only feel like drilling holes in it.

It is one thing to hike up the price on mink or Mercedes. But when you screw with life-essentials, we get damn angry. Did you notice how I suddenly turned to we? I’m not alone, you bonus-sucking beast. We will overthrow your golden ass and pee on your throne. This reign of greedy terror must end, and it must end sooner than now, preferably already.

Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself are much condemned to have an itching palm.” – William Shakespeare

stupid young men

What, pray tell, connects the recent Kenyan violence with 30 years of Afghan war, Gaza unrest, European colonialism and French revolution?

The answer is young men, lots and lots of young men. Researching the demographics of trouble areas past and present, a superfluous amount of young men are most always to be found. Throughout history, a major surplus of 15-29 year old men have led to unrest, coup d’états, civil war, and terrorism.
Such is the theory of the YOUTH BULGE, by Gunnar Heinsohn. In my opinion, it is a brilliant new theory, one I wish I’d stumbled upon when I was chasing my Masters-degree at The Centre For The Study Of Democracy. My own essays always blamed poverty, ideology and religion. How pedestrian they seem now!

Far from boring you senseless with all the important details, it does not take much to realize that young men is a demographic pressure above and beyond any other of those ol’ pyramids we fooled around with in school.
Most men from the age 15-29 are weak in psychology, hot in blood, and lax on thinking. They are out to prove themselves, testing boundaries, seeking alternatives in making complete asses of themselves while actually believing the opposite is taking place. Nothing could be easier to manipulate and brainwash than a young man. Yes, I was once young forever too.

Young men may not necessarily be the cause of conflict, but they feed on it. Gunnar the German makes a strong case for it, with matching numbers. Usually, wars end because the birth rate drops – in other words, peace-talks begin when the warrior count is down. It has been calculated that risk of unrest grows when the percentage of young men from 15-29 climbs over 30% of the whole adult male population. As it is, for the sake of comparison, Finland is at 24%, with 1.7 children per woman. The Gaza Strip is 53% young men, with 5.9 kids per woman. Afghan women have, on average, 6.8 kids. I won’t even comment on Africa. [Once again: every single place on earth with trouble has a youth bulge.]

Did you ever wonder why many of the armed struggles never end, even though they constantly kill each other? Sure is a sad day in the history of mankind, when you learn that they don’t die fast enough. Or grow up fast enough.

Speaking on the behalf of young men, we always knew we weren’t clever. But I never realized we were this stupid.

T-t-testicles…

gaydolf titler

Did you hear Jon Stewart at the Oscars? He’s got a good smirk, and some awesome script writers – whom I will now proceed to abuse extemporaneously:

He is not only African-American. His name is Barack Hussein Obama. The middle name is the same as the former dictator of Iraq. His surname rhymes with Osama (Bin Laden).

See, everyone remembers the unfortunate presidential campaign of Gaydolf Titler. Titler had so many great ideas, but we just could not see past his name. And mustache.

Anyway, the competition between democrats Obama and Hillary Clinton is certainly historical. Normally, when you see a black man or a woman as president, an asteroid is about to crash into the Statue of Liberty.”

Gaydolf Titler gets my vote, though. Go, Gaydolf, go! Gaydolf Titler for President!

viva la revolucion

Or not. Fidel Castro is finally stepping down – not even the Comandante will live forever. Too long, perhaps, but not forever. The charismatic leader has tended the throne since 1959, surviving countless assassination attempts in the process. Frankly, most of them were merely funny. Exploding cigars… now that’s entertainment.

The Cuban population is reasonably educated and healthy. Unfortunately, that’s all. Marxist-communist romanticists can not fake the fact that almost fifty years of stubborn reign has resulted in harsh poverty and a grave lack of about everything. Really, was it not for the cheap oil from Hugo Chavez, Cuba would be standing still.

Yes, the young Fidel looked dapper in his scruffy black beard, the trademark of every guerrilla soldier hero. But do you also remember 1962? The world has never come closer to nuclear conflict since, and crazy Castro was right in the middle of it, craving best seat to watch first strike. Man, I do think I prefer Kekkonen.

In my mind, the best thing to come out of Cuba is fictional character Tony Montana.

Long live the end of the revolution. It is not quite there yet, but yesterday strode long and fast towards it. I can’t wait to see what will happen to Cuba now. Sadly, the Americans will probably buy it in the end.

the modern hippie

The modern hippies are here. Earlier this week, a sordid group of dopes calling themselves the injuns of asphalt – or something – prowled the dark streets of Turku, emptying the tires of SUVs and leaving notes under the windscreen wipers with the message “your SUV kills” and “don’t take it personally – it’s your car we don’t like“.

The crazy hippies have already run rampant in Sweden and Germany, where victims of deflation amount to thousands. Khi khi… ‘victims of deflation’… sorry, you caught me giggling at my own joke.
Anyhow, this new-fangled semi-idea strikes me as yet another let’s-free-some-minks-although-they-will-die. Obviously, the owners of these not-quite-all-terrain vehicles are usually left with no choice but to call a tow truck, which easily burps out a lot more of that fantastically nasty CO2 than what would have been the case had the car been unmolested in the first place. And so on.

The police, bless their ever-endearing disability to catch real criminals, are once again helpless. It seems the only gun they can handle is the radar gun… ok, unnecessary sarcasm towards our useless pigs in blue. And again. But yes, as long as the hippies do not harm the big bad SUV, they can not really be fined in the way they, well, some say, ought to be.

Certainly, Chelsea tractors are usually rather pointless. I’d much rather have something a lot faster and lower, mayhaps in red. However, for those who intend to crash, you might still want one. Occasionally, I even find myself lusting after a Mercedes-Benz Geländewagen 55 AMG, a pretty cool tank to run down hippies on bicycles. 378 grams of CO2 every lovely kilometer – why, you can just feel the climate getting hotter in it. But why should you care – it’s got air conditioning, duh. I’ll take this one in black, please. Better make those windows tinted too, so you can laugh at other people’s loath in privacy.
Somehow, despite regulations for everything, I’d like to think that we can still choose a little. I’d like to think that we can still live a little. I’d like to think that we can still do something outside the god damn Book On Politically Correct Victorian Behavior Of The 21st Century.

But don’t get me started on bottled water sold where there is tap water… that makes me fucking furious. Pick me up in your camper van. Let’s go unscrew some corks.

xoxo

Happy Valentine’s, beautiful. X and O, X and O, XXX and Ooooh.

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On the subject of red roses and lots and lots of love, have you heard the one about the Saudi-Arabian government? No, this is not a joke – although one could easily incorporate it into one’s stand-up routine. See, for Valentine’s Day, the Saudi-Arabian prude squad have forbidden red roses. Yes and truly so, all florists are being forced to remove all red flowers from their stores. Apparently, the red stuff encourages the Saudi people to behave in inappropriate manners. Tut-tut. Can’t have that now, can we? Sure can’t.

How they manage to make babies in that country is beyond me…

Hold Hands, Not Guns.