Sworn to the dark

Words cannot begin to describe the spectacle that is good black metal.  As promised, I brought a camera to document (with blurry photos) the fact that I indeed saw Watain in all their glory.  Aside from a Gwar show I have never seen so many props on stage.
Initially not many people were there, which worried me.  Sweden couldn't possible disappoint me with a poor turnout on a friday night for a black metal show.  But, thankfully, the place filled up as the opening acts trudged on.  Finally, after Destroyer 666's set was cut short because their drummer broke both(!) bass drum heads they began to set up Watain's circus.  It took 45 minutes.

If you look closely, you can see hogs heads on pikes.

Basically the whole stage was set on fire in various ways.  There were large pitchforks that were somehow attached to a gas source spouting flames the whole time.  Candles burned in every conceivable place (including the eye sockets of rotting hogs heads).  And there was a burning alter with a goat's skull   to pray to.

The guitarist looked like kind diamond

 The set started with a ceremonial baptismal of each band member, and a few brave (or stupid) metal dudes with blood.  It smelled like a butcher shop the whole time.  Watain opened with the only song I am familiar with.  Then it was nothing but the darkest, most unforgiving brutality known to man.

Notice the 6" nails on the bass players gauntlet

About halfway through the band lit two large urns of kerosene.  I checked to make sure where my nearest fire exit was and continued to bang my head.  They ended with a venom cover.  Pretty fitting.  I would recommend never attending an event such as this.  The strobe light gave me seizures, the burning crosses coated my nostrils with soot and 90 minutes of blast beats gave me a heart palpitation.  Pretty neat.  

Down with the sun

A few things.  Swedish metal is best seen in Sweden.  I cut my own hair; it looks alright.  25 Kilograms is much heavier than it seems.  I have no plans for halloween.  I vow to see a hedgehog in the wild.

I am going to see my first black metal show on Friday.  I think I will be "that douche that brings a camera to a show to take a blurry picture of the band".  I want to document the fact that I attended a show where real goat blood was used.  Not just water and food coloring (sorry Gwar).

It has been almost 8 weeks since I have been in Sweden.  It has been almost 8 weeks since I have seen a Juggalo.  This is truly Valhalla.

hoppipolla

It is getting dark.  I have been rained on several times this week.  Sometimes I get cold.  The North Atlantic Oscillation should be positive this winter.  I think it means warmer than average temperatures.   My bike is getting rusted from being left out in the rain and I don't care.  If it makes it a year, I will be excited.  Actually if it ever got stol(d)en, I would be more upset losing the U-lock.  The lock has been to as many continents as I have.  Roland will inherit the bike once I leave.  Not the lock though.  
I spent some time in the library today, which is a really nice building.  It is small by most university standards, but it has some very nice views of västra hamnen.  Aside from the occasional meandering Bangladeshi, it is great to turn off your brain.  I rarely get any studying done there.  Ikea furnished it.

Bree taught me how to fold origami. She lived in Japan for a while.  I'm not sure if that is where she learned.  

 I'm going to see Dark Tranquility on Monday.  Watain is playing Friday.  I have yet to meet a Swede that gives a shit about metal.  There was a big, scary viking looking dude in the grocery store that had a guitar case strapped to his back.  I struck up a conversation with him (not an easy thing to do with a swede) and asked him what style he played.  When he said "jack johnson" I died on the inside.  

New noise

I slow-crashed the new wheels yesterday.  While out for a leisurely saturday ride, some old Swedish lady managed to hook her bike's basket on my backpack while riding next to me and proceed to twist me to the ground.  I'm sure it looked hilarious because no matter what I couldn't seem to stay upright.  I managed to chip the paint on the fork and down-tube while rolling around on the ground.  I will be surprised if this bikes lasts the winter the way I'm going (sorry Roland).
The bike is parked in front of the moat of Malmöhus.  I can't deny my American heritage, I'm a sucker for castles.  Also, check out the new fenders (much like speed holes, they make the bike go faster!)

It is getting cold and I am eating mint/fig ice cream.  I'm not crazy about it.  The temperature or the dessert.  Last night was a cold bike ride home.  Mostly for my face and feet.  I need to find some new kicks that are stylist and ward off initial stages of frost bite.  Soon I will dawn the scarf and attempt to blend in with the natives.  Last night I met a girl from Umeå and she never heard of Refused.
What is the world coming to?

neuralgia

I've had headaches.  For a week straight.  Due to the fact that I still possess motor skills, I have ruled out brain cancer.  

Diagnosis: overly caffeinated, slightly dehydrated, excessive amount of group work.

Cure: limit daily coffee dosage, regulate water intake, avoid excessive contact with Bangladeshi guy-  the dude makes my head hurt.  

chroma

We had a lecture about quantifiable measurements a few days ago and the professor said a psychological study showed that the weather does not have an impact on your mood.  That's bullshit.
We have had fog the past few mornings.  It is great because it is totally a novelty for me, but it is not good for my motivation.  I have been feeling drained

My room mate Niklas Lundström (yes he is Swedish) and I watched the football (soccer) match last night.  Sweden played incredibly bad football against Holland.  Sweden's star striker is Zlatan Ibrahimovic (who plays for Milan and the Swedish national team).  He is from Rosengård, which is a neighborhood in Malmö that has a reputation for political and social upheaval due to the large immigrant population.  Rosengård is the subject multiple sociological case studies about everything form gender studies to housing issues.  It has an infamous reputation.  I have been there a few times.  They have cheap kebabs and apparently decent football players.  At one point Zlatan was the highest paid football player in the world.  I've heard that there is some shrine to Ibrahimovic that says "you can take the boy out of Rosengård, but you can't take Rosengård out of the boy."

.

sleeping sickness

I woke up tired.  Good night.

We could walk for miles and never say a thing....

This weekend was hard.  I would like some time to visit old friends and love my loved ones.   Make the most of it. Sometimes I miss everyone.

I regret to inform you of my discontent

So I have lost a fellow ex-pat today.  He called it quits. Disappointing because of the amount he had to contribute to the program.  I had been hoping that we would have a marked decrease in students as the course went on, but I had assumed it would be the faceless masses that have never been present in the first place.


Jared, I wish you the best.  See you in Stockholm.
Your friend,
Michael

Day of pigs

For the record, Ica kebab pizza makes my stomach hurt.
Strangely enough, Europe has some of the worst pizza in the known universe.  Sure, Italians invented pizza, but it was probably invented by an Italian living in Hell's Kitchen.
Did chicken-curry-banana-peanut pizza not sound like a bad idea immediately?  How did it make it into an oven, let alone on a menu?  fuck me.
In Sweden every pizza comes with something called "pizza salad".  As far as I can tell it is just some type of cabbage/vinegar concoction.  It isn't terrible, but then again I enjoy cole slaw.

We had a few guest lecturers from Cuba in school today.  They had to have interpreters and for the first time I realized how much of a disadvantage language can become.  From my limited understanding of Spanish, I could tell most of their meaning was lost in translation.  Fabian (a Colombian in my course who previously lived in London) translated a few things for me.  After the lecture he told me that he finally understood how the professors could make it out of Cuba.  They were extremely leftist and basically communist theorists although it really wasn't very clear from their lectures.  Again, due to translation issues.  I guess I can see why they were well received in Sweden; social democracy goes a long way.








Roland, a totally rad Hungarian who also spend several years in London, had a much more colorful reaction to the Cuban professors.  Roland was 9 when the Soviet block fell, so he has vivid memories of life behind the iron curtain.  His response to the claim that every Cuban citizen is given a job based on his/her skills was "Sod off you Communist cunts! If life is so grand, then why is there so many fucking cubans sailing to fucking Miami in tires?"
Apparently communist Hungary wasn't allowed the great job placement that Cuba enjoys.
As a side note, check out the news.  Hungary is suffering from the worst toxic spill in the country's history.  It is legitimately upsetting.
Sorry for the bad picture Roland.

I'm your opposite number

Västra Rönneholmsvägen is the new hood.  It is affectionately nick named "cane town" due to all the old people wandering between the flower shops, salons, and bakeries.  It is actually a really nice part of the city and I am only about a 5 min bike ride from the sea.  Also Netto (think creepy king soopers  x 10) is a few blocks away.  If I haul ass I can make it to school in about 10 minutes, even with the wind against me.  No matter which way you ride in this city the wind is always against you.  It defies physics.  
Matt and I used to talk about the CSU challenge.  The Rönneholmsvägen challenge isn't quite the same because the people move at almost a static pace.  It's like weaving through traffic cones.  So I will need to sharpen my skills before I ride CSU again.

I live one block away from one of the worst bike shops that I have ever had the misfortune of setting foot into.  The owner must like to collect bikes because he has about twenty cluttering up the sidewalk that never seem to get moved, worked on or sold.  When I asked about getting a fixed cog for the new ride he gave me this sideways look like a dog when it isn't quite sure if it has heard a noise.  I just turned around a walked out.  Nathan, I miss you.







The streets quite down around 6pm.  Also, I have a problem with the 24 hour clock that Europeans are fond of using.  You would never say, "I'll meet you at the Systembolaget at 18:00" but you would definitely write it.  I find myself subtracting by 12 half the time.

Tan took this picture at a party.  I can't tell if I hate it.

Fuck you wind.

Ugh.  If I wanted wind I'd have moved to Wyoming.



*side note.  I fixed the problem with the comment page.  Feel free to make fun of my stupidity.

Final Destination

Public transportation is the great equalizer.  Business men next to single mothers next to me.  The Malmö city buses are powered by compressed bio-gas, which is pretty innovative.

Since I've gotten a bike I ride the bus as little as possible.  Public transportation still creeps me out.
Riding a bike in Malmö is really nice.  Cars give you the right of way on most occasions and people watch out for you.  There are tons of bike lanes and the city is well connected.  I have felt pretty safe on the road up until today.
While riding to Katharina's place in Slussen I almost pulled a final destination.  The wind blows really hard in Malmö and side winds can throw you off balance unexpectedly. While trying to pass a bus I was blown directly into the side of it.  After managing to shoulder the bus for about 50 feet I rode it out and pulled behind it.  Crazy.  


After meeting Kathi I parked my bike and rode the bus (the same one) to Ikea.
Ikea is like Wal-Mart's younger, charming, stylish little brother that has several friends and parents that aren't ashamed of it.  Seriously, Ikea is alright.  You can buy some cheap Swedish crap and then have a nice coffee and cake in their cafeteria afterwords.  The fact that I sat down and ate Ikea food should tell you something.  I don't think I, or anyone I know, would willing spend time in a Wal-Mart cafeteria (if such a thing existed).

moonpies for misfits

So for the third time in one month I have packed all my things and moved to a new apartment.  It has never been very difficult because I can fit everything I own in a few back packs.  I know everyone has heard all the bullshit about how liberating it is to free yourself from possessions.  Well, its true.  Don't get me wrong, I still have a ton of crap in Colorado, but out here I don't own anything.  I don't need to.  I don't want to.  So this is the new digs.  Spartan, clean, white.

Here is a picture of the sunset from Christian's balcony.  It was one of those nights where the air felt electric.  Right after I took this this, a Chinese dude from my course named Jialiang Tan gave me a ride to the new apartment.  I just call him Tan because I can't pronounce Jialiang correctly, and I doubt any of you could either.  Many Chinese adopt "English" names.  Strangely enough his is Michael.  If I could choose one word to describe Tan, it would be gnarly.  

This is a picture of Tan with Saeid.  Saeid is an Iranian dude that has taught me a lot about international opinion of Americans post-Bush.  Without getting into excruciating detail, the majority of people, especially Saeid, just desire to be heard over the noise of the rest of us.  In a world full of billions of people, it is not easy to make a sound.  I have a lot of respect for Saeid.

On a completely unrelated topic, I found some moon-pies at Hemköp this evening.  Could someone please mail me some RC Cola?