Clean living under difficult circumstances

Yeast. Bleergh no wait. Yeats!

2009-02-09T21:35:39Z

THE SECOND COMING

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

cleanriot @ 2007-04-20T01:49:00

2007-04-20T01:54:46Z

Mmm.

Writing something here feels a bit like poking a sleeping, prehistoric albeit not too unfriendly-looking beast. And waking it up to discover it wants cookies.

We'll have to see about the cookies.

Dayings and nigthings

2005-10-29T01:56:55Z

My duvet has turned into a thin excuse for a cover. I guess all the down took off into some fascinating unknown realm. That or turned into dust. Ashes even.

To compensate for the loss I turned to the closest thing available: boyfriend. As tempting as it was to use him as a new, warm cover I decided that I would spare him, especially since I tend to give my duvets quite a hard time, by twisting them around in a knot so fierce it would even have scared The Great Houdini.

I just all happened so fast. I can remember the day I got it. I was so young that I was actully angry about getting a new duvet. I liked my old one. I had worked it in. Grown used to it. I found this new one far too newfangled and outlandish. Hic.

This one has become as dear. But it's nearly useless. So instead of turning to the closest available, I turned to his property: his thick, rich and creamy duvet. I nicked it. Then I woke up one night and found my boy going: brrrrr in his sleep next to me. I was overcome with guilt. Rather I go cold. And I did. For a few nights I slept with my old duvet. Then, I couldn't handle it anymore. I stole the good duvet again. Next night I promised compensations if I could have it. Then the night after that I returned it to original owner. Etc.

Then I got a brilliant idea, and not a moment too soon! I took the OTHER duvet boyfriend had used during warm summers abroad. On it's own it was completely useless... but combined with my old useless one it made a good one. I put it into the covers of my old one, while giggling madly with the glee of invention. Boyfriend's suspicion got raised and he asked me from the next room what I was doing.

"Nothing"!

.... "heeheehee"...

Then I asked him if he didn't like his duvet.

"MY duvet? So this is why you were giggling you little grallari"

I just giggled some more, jubilant having solved the problem.

The day after he told me that the new duvet was really heavy. I couldn't understand why two shreds would suddenly become really heavy when put together, so I decided to try the new one. It was a bit on the heavy side, but it was also warm and soft and good. I concluded I should just keep it. I really like it, and I'm not getting a new new one. Got my old one, and boyfriend's old one, it's newfangled and outlandish but I love it still. And I'm warm and he's warm. Everybody's happy. And asleep

Of crossing fences

2005-10-23T00:53:49Z

I have two memories of crossing fences and realizing there was a purpose behind them.

I was running around in the country, in the land above my aunt's farm. The old farm, Dýjakot [Quaghut basically] used to be there, but it had been torn down. There was a long, steep hill that lead to the heath there, and we used to play there as well as in the creek that ran down from the heath. Now this was the horses' pasture, and the sheep were usually roaming somewhere in the hills that lead to the heath, or on the heath itself. I don't remember what I was doing there, only me and the dog on our own secret mission or something. Anyway, I make a beeline from point A to point B, and on that way I find an old fence, really dilapited. I shrug, thinking it's a remnant of something or other and jump over it. Straight into the quagmire. My right foot sinks down at first step inside the fence.

The ground was generally soggy and quaggy in the area, and usually it just resulted in slow-mo walking accompanied with fun slurpy sounds. So I wasn't overly concerned. Until I put my left foot down, in order to pull my right leg up, and that sank too.

I managed to crawl out of it, but lost a very fine welly in the process. When I told my aunt I hadn't realized that that old fence was there for a purpose she swore and said that lambs and even sheep had drowned in the quagmire there. Hence the fence. But what lovely green the colour of that moss...

The other fence-instance I recall happened much later. My friend lived in the student housings near the city airport and I was on my way to visit her. Again, I can't remember where I was coming from, I must have taken a ridiculous bus or maybe I was running an errand in the vicinity. Anyway, I decide to take a shortcut and climb a fence on my way. A tall fence. I was wearing tights as well. But enough on smart decisions. Suddenly I realize that I'm at the actual airfield, complete with No Trespassing signs. I sort of start to scurry and finally get my butt over another fence, into safety. Only one ditch and then a road. Score.

Later, my mother told me a story of my grandfather. He was a ship engineer and used to sail all over the world. Once he was docked somewhere in Russia, during the Cold War. He wanted to get to point B from a point A and being that kind of a person, he jumped over a fence in his way. Turned out he had stumbled into some closed area, something he realized when he got arrested. He was interrigated (by KGB or some sort) for hours and apparantly the Russian secret service had loads of info on him. He had to recount every ship he had sailed on, when he had been on this one and that one, and they had data they could check to see if he was who he said he was. My grandfather had an excellent memory. Basically, his story checked out and they decided he must be who he said he was and that he had a tendency to want to go "straigth" between places. They let him go anyhow.

I can't wait to cross fences abroad.

cleanriot @ 2005-10-17T18:28:00

2005-10-17T18:36:07Z

Eeeech.

Rough day, weirdly enough. Spent one and half an hour fixing two mistakes in a loom-foundation, taking each bloody thread, moving it from the wrong place to the right place times zagrillion. Then I sat down and wove a bit only to find that I had made one bloody mistake in the combthingy so I had to cut out what I had woven, untie a chunk of knots and move a bunch of threads.. just.. one place to the left. One thread at a time. This took the rest of the day.

When I asked the teacher if the class wasn't just over because I was puking with annoyance, she said she was surprised I wasn't angrier. Little did she know I was murdering puppies in my head.

So I guess I'm not yet zen. Yet more zen than last time.

I thought I'd score as "dweeb"

2005-10-05T23:43:40Z

Mystic Theurge

25% Combativeness, 43% Sneakiness, 85% Intellect, 75% Spirituality

Brilliant and spiritual! You are a Mystic Theurge!

Score! You have a prestige class. A prestige class can only be taken
after you�ve fulfilled certain requirements. This may mean that you�re
an exceptionally talented person, but it probably doesn't.

The Mystic Theurge is a combination of a cleric and a mage. They
can cast both arcane and divine spells, and are good at both, making
them pretty terrifying on the battlefield. They have more raw
spellpower than just about any other class.

You're both intelligent and faithful, but not violent or deceitful. I guess that makes you a pretty good person.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 5% on Combativeness
You scored higher than 67% on Sneakiness
You scored higher than 83% on Intellect
You scored higher than 96% on Spirituality

Link: The RPG Class Test written by MFlowers on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

cleanriot @ 2005-10-03T23:15:00

2005-10-03T23:18:59Z

Sib in car.

Sib hears something on radio.

Sib asks Svan: what's that.. Joy Division? No... Duran Duran? Wait.. Franz Ferdinand? No... uhh.. *suggests a couple of other bands*

Svan: It's Kaiser Chiefs.

Sib: Oh. Sounding like this.. they should have gone by the name of Kaizer Zöse. Ho ho.

cleanriot @ 2005-10-03T23:05:00

2005-10-03T23:13:11Z

Nokkrar hugleiðingar í sambandi við kynskiftaauglýsingarnar:

Gísli Marteinn er ágætlega útlítandi kvenmaður, amk miðað við hvað hann er eitthvað væskilslegur fýr.

Ingibjörg Sólrún er hinn myndarlegasti maður. Sérstaklega miðað við. Eða, það samræmist reyndar reglunni*.

Egill Helgason. What the fuck. Ég reyndi að gera mér í hugarlund hvaða starfi kvenkyns Egill myndi gegna.. af einhverjum ástæðum fannst mér "hún" endilega passa niðrá nemendaskrá. Hah! Það er réttlæti í heilanum/heiminum.

*forvitnir geta bara spurt mig hvaða regla það er

cleanriot @ 2005-10-02T20:02:00

2005-10-02T20:03:50Z

Ætli þessi nýi jógúrtdrykkur sé eitthvað í ætt við gamla góða Epla/Jarðaberjajógann sem mér fannst einu sinni svo góður? Þarf að finna út úr því.

cleanriot @ 2005-10-02T17:56:00

2005-10-02T19:40:21Z

So apparantly I've been tagged, and I've actually seen everyone (except Dundi of course) answering to this tagging, and we all know I must do opposite of Dundi.

So here are five facts about me, obviously not randomly selected, since I ain't no robot, but nevertheless, they're what somewhat spontaneously came to my mind when I thought: what things do people perhaps not know about me already, and can I mix them with lots of anocdotes and lengthy explanations?

1. I have some sort of talent of sucking up language. When I stay in a foreign country I find a huge part of my brain immediately focusing on the language spoken there. Subsequently, this becomes a big part of my experience of a foreign country, and I love every second of it. This does not happen as strongly if I'm not staying in a particular language area, say, if I'm only trying to learn a language on my own, but I still have nice abilities to learn a language in a classroom. As an example of this is when I visited Hungary. I had been skimming over my friend's Hungarian grammar before she moved there, I found it interesting but not much sat behind. But as soon as I landed in Budapest, my senses started to suck up the language around, and over the two-three weeks staying there I gathered enough vocabulary to be able to hold the simplest conversation with a cab-driver. It was really simple though: I-on-summer-vacation-not-long-few weeks-my-friend-school-here-learning-doctor.. that sorta stuff. And I remember sitting in front of the TV watching cartoons in Hungarian while perusing a dictionary to understand, finding it extraordinarily exhilarating. Same thing happened in Japan, it didn't take long to pick up the katagana alphabet, learn how to read where the toilets were and order some hotto kohi. Unfortuanately, I've never really done much with this. Instead of going for three months to France and pick up French, I prefer staying at home, picking my nose. Sheesh.

2. I hardly ever wear bras. I have a slight figure and nature blessed me with no more in the bosom department than I need and fits my frame. And stays up. I'm no fan of unecessary torture and find myself puzzled at girls who lack more than me actually wearing bras. What on earth for? I understand that women who actually have something to carry, say from C and up, need something to fight the powers of gravity, but why string something around you when you don't need to? Sometimes I put one on when I'm wearing something that might result in an accident of the revealing kind, but as soon as I can, I take the damn thing off. Same goes for everything "extra", be it watches, rings, necklaces, bracelets and hair. Can't stand anything like that for too long.

3. I like eating raw meat. Raw liver triggers something in me. That something says: devour me! Pretty gross, I'm told, but what can I say, the taste of blood is yummy.

4. I like traveling between places while listening to music and looking out of a window more than I like some more standard forms of entertainment. I love riding buses from my home to somewhere, or riding in a car while sitting next to boyfriend (he understands my hazing off). This also includes walking between places with my headset on. One summer I had a job that included the most horrific uniforms, and I loved walking from that workplace to the uni to get to a computer, listening to something groovy. My stride gave me my cool back from a day of having my inner homo insulted by pastelgreen and shapeless trousers. The walk took half and hour and I was glad to get it. Nevertheless, this traveling does not include me having to have to drive myself, because then I obviously can't haze off, and it doesn't include some busrides to unknown places, that means I have to have my wits about, and it doesn't include sloooow and smelly buses on my way home.. they just take too many turns and make me carsick. No swoosh in that.

5. I don't like having people in my home.. for too long. When I was a kid I abhorred having my friends round. So I didn't. When asked: can I come round your place, I just said: NO. YOU CAN'T. I could stay at friends' houses, but no way they could hang around my house. MY HOUSE! No strangers plz. I've softened up in my grownuppery, and love having GOOD FRIENDS round. I hate having strangers and aquaintances make me feel weary real soon. And if people show signs of overstaying their welcome, I get all quirky and weary and start bringing out the old chainsaw in my head. Honestly. I've felt outright hostility towards my closest friends if they've hung around a few hours over the accepted limit. No offense. This just happens. My home is sanctum sanctorum. I think I'm pretty good at holding this impatience at bay though and I hope people will continue coming around for a coffee. Please don't stop coming around for coffee, I love visits. When you see me starting to get restless, just ask me and I'll say: yes, please, go now. If you're really fun, I'll say: have another coffee. This strange crazyness is one of the things that tells me Svan is my man. I never get the urge to kick him out.

There I'm done.

cleanriot @ 2005-08-29T04:17:00

2005-08-29T04:17:42Z

Aaaah it's the end of summer really.

Nerf winter.

Late Trenchcoat Minus Haircut

2005-08-28T01:21:03Z

I finally got around to uploadsing the pictures of my new trenchcoat with me in it. The trenchcoat that is. At first I thought I could take the pictures myself, but those turned out to be mostly of the wall and had me concentrating so much I resembled a dead pan. Minus the horns.

I tried to catch the resemblance of Kermit when he wears his trenchcoat

But then I couldn't keep my cool and the session ended abruptly, me in stitches. And then we had coffee

Stay tuned for the heartpalpationally exciting photo event called: Svan reading paper!

cleanriot @ 2005-08-15T23:53:00

2005-08-15T23:54:51Z

Stole from brindy. It was fun to take, although I take these results not too seriously.

Very Well-Rounded

You have:
70% SCIENTIFIC INTUITION and
62% EMOTIONAL INTUITION

The graph on the right represents your place in Intuition 2-Space. As you can see, you scored above average on emotional intuition and above average on scientific intuition. (Weirdly, your emotional and scientific intuitions are equally strong.)

Your Emotional Intuition
score is a measure of how well you understand people, especially their
unspoken needs and sympathies. A high score score usually indicates
social grace and persuasiveness. A low score usually means you're good
at Quake.

Your Scientific Intuition
score tells you how in tune you are with the world around you; how well
you understand your physical and intellectual environment. People with
high scores here are apt to succeed in business and, of course, the
sciences.

My test tracked 2 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 99% on Scientific
You scored higher than 99% on Interpersonal

Link: The 2-Variable Intuition Test written by jason_bateman on Ok Cupid

cleanriot @ 2005-08-11T16:56:00

2005-08-11T16:57:00Z

Vill einhver gefa mér munkahlunk takk. Ég nenni ekki út í Fell.

Say goodbye to the brrrrilliant blues

2005-08-11T16:51:24Z

I imported White City so that I could hear White City Fighting.

*sighs of relief*

Now I've reclaimed my soul I can go around and sell it for the popsicle created for my pleasure.

It's IN the computer??

2005-08-11T00:10:08Z

I've been obsessing with four songs today, playing them over and over and over again:

David Bowie - Sound and Vision
Roy Orbinson - Running Scared
Roy Orbinson - Distant Drums
Fairport Convention - Tam Lin

GAWD I wish I could import vinyl into the computer, don't have a record player at the moment and I'm physically hungering for Neil Sedaka. Didn't think that was possible somehow.

I'm also hankering for other stuff, there's a question on getting a download-thingummy so I can gets it into the computer.

cleanriot @ 2005-08-10T16:14:00

2005-08-10T16:18:42Z

don't you wonder sometimes
'bout sound and vision

blue, blue, electric blue
that's the colour of my room
where I will live
blue, blue

pale blinds drawn all day
nothing to do, nothing to say
blue, blue

i will sit right down, waiting for the gift of sound and vision
and I will sing, waiting for the gift of sound and vision
drifting into my solitude, over my head

don't you wonder sometimes
'bout sound and vision

Sophisticated parking lot drinking does not only exist in memory

2005-08-09T01:41:14Z

There is a before:

and an after...:

cleanriot @ 2005-08-09T01:14:00

2005-08-09T01:22:01Z

I like this picture of us, the handsome devil and the happy camper:

Mrs. Hoover, it happened again!

2005-08-08T01:47:16Z

Last winter I had to read a bunch of stuff and turned into a commie, remember? Well, now I seem to be having to have to go through a pile of feminism.

I did not plan this. Turns out all the nice stuff I had accumulated on the juicy subject of mahahadness, turns out to be in some way or other, about the negative effects of patriarchal institutions. ~~Bonus~~ Bad pater! Even worse is the families, it seems. Yup, according to many people, the nuclear family is the source of all evil. Mah.

Like last time, I am going through it with one eye squinted. But on the other paw, I'm rounding up the usual suspects for a bout of heated finger-pointing. Then, I'm going to cut my hair and curse some more. Lastly, I'll go back to what I've been saying all along: it's society that's insane!

Other bits that have nothing to do with this:
-pirates are ALWAYS funny
-even syrup is bad when moldy
-"Gone! And you and I both quite crestfallen."
-the more things stay, the more they change the sane
-i like other people's houses
-working on contingency? No, money down!
-i am really a troll, working on troll time, thinking it's wednesday and generally having no sense of time.. or some bits of time and their relations with other bits of time
-i can't take a picture of my new trenchcoat until i've put on a few more pounds. Not fond of the skeletor look. I need more vitamins and hot chocolate with whipped cream. Am contemplating excersise, to be honest,that's bound to build up muscle and make me more robust. So instead of going to pools and make records in floating and holding breath, I'd actually go and swim.

Now, I'm sleepy. Hold my calls!

cleanriot @ 2005-07-29T00:34:00

2005-07-29T00:46:22Z

Went downtown today on the biddings of Thórir, God of Static Electricity. He had found a treasure of D.H. Lawrence and knew of my inclinations towards his stoofe.

Took new bus. Went past the old bus center because it had been removed. I was looking for a yellow house that no longer exists.

Idled in Grafarvogur. Didn't feel like disrupting my T.Rex daze by asking bus driver where we were going. Finally ended downtown.

Cursed new bus system, on grounds of it being silly. Acknowledged being silly about it myself. Slowly learned to love new bussystem through mild brainwashing.

Walked with Thórir, God of Static Electricity. People avoided enraging him.

Enraged a few tourists myself by refusing to take a picture of them next to a stupid-looking plastic gnome wearing a helm. Told them it was a stupid thing. Thórir found his merciful side and took picture.

Cursed Thórir, called him Judas for not standing up for what I believe in. Subsequently made a mockery of his principe system.

Got mocked back by Thórir, who I will now refer to as The Judas.

Forgot about said quarrel, for The Judas now showed me the cache of ancient lore. Bought ten D.H. Lawrence novels and others.

Told Thórir and Svan that due to new attitude towards femininity, they should expect a lot of cursing from me.

Got woozy.

Went home and continued woosying, along with the reading of Phyllis Chesler.

Ok.

cleanriot @ 2005-07-28T11:54:00

2005-07-28T11:54:49Z

I like Skull in that outfit

And his hair fell off

2005-07-28T00:22:54Z

Foucault On Maniacs

quotes

"Théophile Bonet, in his Sepulchrum anatomicum, declares that the brains of maniacs, insofar as he had been able to observe them, always seemed to be in a state of dryness, of hardness, and of friability. Later, Albrecht von Haller also found that the maniac's brain was hard, dry, and brittle. Menuret repeats an observation of Forestier's that clearly shows how an excessive loss of a humor, by drying out of the vessels and fibers, may provoke a state of mania; this was the case of a young man who "having married his wife in the summertime, became maniacal as a result of the excessive intercourse he had with her.""

-Michel Foucault: Madness and Civilization, p.121

What else to expect from a science that's based on "humors" :þ

cleanriot @ 2005-07-27T14:59:00

2005-07-27T15:07:40Z

Fyrst Dundi er að blogga svona rosalega um nýja strætósýstemið, þá langar mig að koma eftirfarandi á framfæri.

Tólfan er dauð.

Mér er nokk sama, ég tek bara einhvern annan strætó. Frá Vesturbergi að vísu, but what the hey.

Útskýring hví tólfan dó: ef ég tek hana frá Mjódd og heim til mín, þá tekur það tuttugu mínútur með tilheyrandi hraðahindrunarhlaupi. Það tók mig áður tuttugu mínútur að komast td úr vinnunni minni í hátúni og heim. Mjóddin - heim = 20 mín. Neibb.

Eins og ég sagði hér áður, ég mun þá sumsé notfæra mér annan vagn. En það er gert ráð fyrir því að einhver sem býr á svipuðum slóðum og ég muni sætta sig við að vera 20 mínútur á leiðinni úr Mjódd og hingað.

Fyrir eðlilegt fólk þá tekur bytheway um 20 mínútur að labba heim til mín og úr Mjóddinni.

Eníhú. Var málið að laða til sín nýjan viðskiftavinahóp? Gamli hópurinn samanstóð að miklu leyti af fólki sem liggur ekkert það mikið á. Let's face it. Ég sé ekki að þessi tiltekna nýja leið tólfunnar sé að fara að laða að sér einn né neinn nýjan strætónotenda. Ég sé engin not fyrir þennan draugastrætó td, nema fyrir fólk sem hefur allan tímann í heiminum að sitja í bíl og glápa út um glugga.

cleanriot @ 2005-07-26T13:28:00

2005-07-26T13:41:25Z

Yesterday I did some fun things and others that weren't as fun. They were not unfun, just more like. Dwaah.

The fun things were laughing at Sacha Baron Cohen as the Lemur King in Madagascar, the other fun thing was jumping on a trambopolin and ESPECIALLY jumping on concrete having jumped on a trambopolin. It's GREAT! It makes you feel like you're a clump. I also found out the man I'm living with is the evil trambopolin bully. Grrrr. I'll get him back in his sleep :þ

Finished Harry Potter last last night. Had promised myself not to do like last time, when I used up a good half of a visit to the country to read Book Number Five. I was sleeping in a tent and the sun was up all night, so I went and read through the night in the nightsun blur. Not good for eyes.

But yes, I wasn't going to do that, so I had been taking it slowly, only reading 200 pages a day or something. When it comes to Potter, that's not easy. And I couldn't go through with this plan when it came to the end. I was a bit taken back (this is not a spoiler), because ti felt like the first 400 pages or something had been like "waitwaitwaitwaitforit" and then last bit "KAADOOMBLAfollowedbyGAASPOJJNG". In a way, if you want just the info, just read the last 100 pages, it's all summed up there.

Anywho. It's funny we're living in a world that burns Harry Potter books because they send out a evil witchy message. Bah. The Christian undertone (as I understand Christianity) is the backbone of the whole story! I trust my grandfather in this case, he said that people who burned books were twats.

It's Narnia all over again people!

Speaking of which. The movie closes in. Saw trailer, it looks.. different from the BBC version. Couldn't see any beaver people. Haha.

And that concludes this most pointless of all pointless entries. I like it.

EDIT: I had forgotten the third fun part I did, because it happened so late in the night. We had a mini-vinyl party at Dússý's hippyhangout. I got to blast King Crimson! And I found out my cousin had been in an eighties punkpoetryband called Qtzy Qtzy Qtzy. Dad has explaining to do.