,” okey … Maybe Norwegian is not that silly. Pretty close, though. We share with the Jew that orientation one in philosophy call “materialistic”, and you know, Americans should also, having a President. Number One, not One and Only. What that means, is that we are grounded. Pretty down to earth, by the language, though dreaming about the not reachable, not imaginable. So we can be pretty naive, thinking others must think as us, like in the hands of God, cared for. We are basically like the tree flowering, not the beast, pissing on it. And that is pretty close to being that silly. For some.

Salt in the wound


There is someone, not friendly, not good, not nice, and not kind, who tries to make life intolerable to me. Ai believe you know him. We know his name, and if one leaves life, that one will deal with him. The latest, now, is some kind of gas, which makes my sinuses infected. Ai have, though, also a wound, an open scar, on my lower lip, which comes and goes. It hurts. And aI believe it is regularly poisoned. Since aI am hypnotized, aI am vulnerable to manipulation. Also, aI believe remedies aI buy in effort to heal the wound are exchanged with manipulated drugs, making the wound worse. Today aI tried something new. Salt. Ai believe that expression, “salt in the wound” comes from a two thousand years old Roman practice of putting salt in the wounds of people having been whipped. Today, we use the expression for coining people’s efforts of being contrary to comforting, making wounds hurt even more, by the suggestion one is weak. And aI have never tried, really, to have salt in a wound. What aI thought, was that salt must be disinfecting. And aI thought maybe salt also would quicken healing, by strengthening whoever it is in the blood who performs this thing called “being mad about it”, which we in Norwegian coin “forbannet”. So aI tried salt, by putting a little bit of table salt in a small cup of water, adding a little bit of milk. The milk, aI thought, would make the liquid more tasty to the ones in the blood who perform admittance. Indeed it burned, the wound. Not critically much, though, and it took not much time before that burning went away, and the wound dried up. And if it is so, that salt disinfects, we can consider it God given, the Romans tortured their prisoners by having salt in the wounds of the whips.

Institutions on internet

Ai am sitting perfecting the look of my SoundCloud profile. SoundCloud is a fantastic service, and aI am able to make everything really presentable. And with time, Ai belive, the SoundCloud look will become less challenging, and maybe even an option will be made for the developing of personal looking artist or composer profiles. That is what aI think. And aI think of WordPress. In WordPress one has an idea, about widgets, which is not fully developed. The service of WordPress one can consider to be only in its beginning, and it is exciting to think those people have ideas. And aI think of my experience with different services. And aI think of the popularity of certain services. And aI think of Statoil.

The internet addresses

Ai have cleaned up a little in my internet addresses. Ai have moved to my home page, and aI have destined for memory. It is a bit silly address, really, since the site is in English, also. And aI have made some new short addresses to my pages. This particular site, the WP blog, aI got the address for, the other day, so now points to my home page, and points to this blog. As aI see it, and want it to be, the .com and the .net addresses are the one’s which are not matters.

It is a bit funny, the thing with internet addresses. Today, one can make plenty. Ai thank the Lord, though, for giving me and and any other. Imagine:;; Ai believe those addresses, still today, would be worth fortunes, if fresh.

Ai see that someone has made a lot of internet addresses, obviously intentionally to ridicule and to make despair, both as .com and as .no, and aI once made blog posts about it. Maybe aI will repeat those lists, in a way or another. Maybe the posts are deleted, and aI have found a few more addresses. When identity on internet is bad, organized, not incidentally, one gets the notion internet is a place for the bad, and that internet is not love. And, you know, we can make that a picture.

Ai am happy with my addresses. Thank, You, Lord! They say something, are easy to memorize and to share, and they give masses of possibilities.

Ai have even bought Tertit is the baby name of my sister, and, of course, she does not know it, and when she is finished being a business woman and makes herself a spot, aI will give it to her, and say “it is fate …” Tertit is very intelligent and very artistic, so aI believe she can make something nice.

Reality is not nice

Right now, aI am a little bit depressed. Sad, really. It is so much, of it all, and the evilness aI face seems to be endless. It was not imaginable so many people could be so evil for so long time, and it was not imaginable national law would be put aside by consensus, and it was not imaginable the human being was such a coward. It was not imaginable a people oriented towards another people could be evil. We live in the 2000nds. Some walls aI have made around me have stumbled down, and aI am disappointed. And aI am not certain about what to think of the future. This generation is a failure, and the question is if there are many people enough to base the legal society in the future. The alternative is an order almost not commensurable with history, which is, an order by power. The beast-like character of the so called human being today is awkward.

The appearance of the blog

AI have an incredible challenge, presumably given me by Ingrid Alexandra. After aI changed the theme of the blog, the header image, that is the A in the circle, became frozen. Ai mean, there is nothing aI can do about it. Ai cannot move it, aI can not change it, and aI cannot delete it. Ai have thought about it, and since aI am not thinking, aI have come to the conclusion there is a possibility to change the entire mending of the blog, by making a theme on a Blogger blog, and save the atom of that theme on my computer, and then upload it to WordPress, on the blog. Ai think about it sporadically, and especially when aI am tired and ready for bed. As right now. And aI think that is part of the plot of Her Royal Highness. To make me confused. If aI do that now, aI cannot do it tomorrow, and if aI wait until tomorrow, aI have forgotten everything about it, and will regret aI did not do it now, since aI only think about taking away that A when aI am tired. Ai believe aI must sleep on it.

Well – if not dreaming

… expecting. Ai have changed my mind. Ai am chemically lobotomized, and aI have been tortured and abused for more than twenty years. Ai believe the word “broken” is the word for it. Yesterday aI looked up what electricity is in a Norwegian lexicon. And aI could not understand a word of it. Ai never got it in what we call college either, though, surely, aI have a bit more experience now. Well. Ai am expecting, aI guess. Making specs from what is.