Must...
buy...
Pepsi...

Lou Reed and Edna Krabappel are dead.

The House of Ronald McDonald

Watch this.

Now. Did the music move you? Are you crying already? Now that you saw this, will you go out and buy a Big Mac?

Last year, McDonald's launched a campaign in Helsinki. This year they're doing the same thing. Suddenly 50 % of bus stop ads show a sentimental picture of two models with a little girl wandering somewhere in the countryside: An ill child can take a family far from home. Ronald McDonald House gives home to ill children.

Okay. Let's see. One of the world's most destructive corporations is suddenly doing something good and compassionate? Great! But why are they telling this to us so loudly? Why the ads? Why are the ads everywhere? Are we all supposed to go and book rooms in 'Ronald McDonald House'?

Of course not. The point of these campaigns is, quite simply, to use us. 'Children' is a magic word, you see. They say 'ill children' and we become numb and stupid. They say 'ill children' so that we lose our fragile rationality and start believing that, actually, McDonald's must not be evil. McDonald's must be good!

I mean... ill children!

The only point of these campaigns is to make us buy more Big Macs. Every ten-trillionth cent will 'help the children'. All the other cents will fill the bottomless bank accounts of the richest, most cold-blooded men on Earth.

When I was 11, I used to love McDonald's. Of course I did. All children love McDonald's. The food is yummy and greasy. The commercials and advertisements are everywhere. The clown is cool. When I was 11, the highpoint of my week was Friday afternoon when my dad brought me a bag of McDonald's food.

Then when I was 15, I found painful information. It made me realize that I couldn't keep doing this anymore. I had to choose.

I still think that McDonald's food is tasty. If there was no moral dilemma, I'd eat that shit all the time. I like unhealthy food. That's my thing. But when I was 15, I had to choose between what tastes good and what is right.

I chose the latter. And now I eat seitan burgers; they are yummy and greasy, too.

A while ago I stumbled upon this sentence that 200 000 hipsters on Tumblr seemed to agree with: 

Do not associate with people who think they are too good for McDonald's.

I'm sorry, 200 000 hipsters.

I am too good for McDonald's.

I think that what they do to people, the animals and the planet is unbearably cruel. Knowing WHAT THEY DO every second of every day is so painful that sometimes I almost find it difficult to go on living; in terms of suffering, McDonald's is one of the biggest criminals on this planet. Few things are as violent as the way McDonald's treats the most vulnerable individuals in the world.

If you're poor, they'll exploit and abuse you. If you're a cow, a bird, or a pig, they'll cage you, they'll torture you, they'll dismember you, and then they'll kill you. If a rain forest is your home, they'll come and cut your home down. And then they'll leave you lying in blood. Dead or alive. They don't care.

I've heard that in the 90's, being young and cool meant that you boycotted industries like this. Now, 20 years later the young and cool struggle to understand the point of being good. Being bad is romantic, right?

Sigh. What happened to us?

I don't know if I'm good. But I know that I'm too good for this.

I watched a documentary about 'adult babies'; adults who feel safe and happy when they wear a diaper and are treated as small children. It was one of those "documentaries" where an intense female voice with a British accent tells us about oh so perverse and twisted stuff and we get to see how these oh so perverse and twisted individuals live their oh so perverse and twisted everyday life. The point of these documentaries is obvious: we are supposed to look at and condemn people that are different from us. The intense female voice with a British accent knows that we want to watch this kind of stuff because we enjoy the feeling of being Normal, and the feeling we get when other people fail to join the gang.

I fail to see anything wrong with adult babies. I think it's great if somebody wants to be an adult baby. I never have anything against the people presented in these documentaries. I always find them sympathetic and human; I like them more than I like 'normal people'. When a young woman told the camera how she wanted to live her life as a 6-year-old, I actually shouted out loud, "You go girl!"

The first website that I ever visited that had something to do with sex was a site dedicated to people who were aroused by urine and diapers. I was 10 and the website was called babybottle.net or something.

Leonardo DiCaprio's eyes are like two scars

I am the greatest man that ever existed.

I have no relatives in literature. I'm related to people that are not traditional writers. I have my thing and I'm good at it.

Speaking of relations, I'd love to meet a non-human primate. We're different species but we both have hands. Which creates an interesting connection between us. Meeting a monkey is different from meeting a cat. When my eyes see a monkey, somehow my brain sees a human being; I can't help it, we're so closely related. I wonder if a monkey would see me in the same way.

My sister and I usually talk very kindly and passionately about animals. For a long time we didn't really know how to talk about non-human primates, like chimpanzees; it was awkward, it was like trying to discuss humans and call them 'cute'. But we learned. I love all primates, expect not always the human ones.

Btw:
What the fuck is going on

MorrisseymorrisseymorrisseymorrisseymorrisseymorrisseyJimmydeanjimmydeanjimmydeanjimmydeanMememememememememememememememe

I've yet to say anything about the fact that I actually existed in the same building with Morrissey for several hours and that he almost killed me and made me want to kill everybody around. "I'm gonna start killing people very soon," I said repeatedly that night, and almost kept my promise.

And, after all, I would still die for him.

All I need is someone who loves Morrissey like I do and I've found everything I need in life; we can lock ourselves up in a dirty little flat, drink tea and beer, and never get out and slowly die.




According to Morrissey, Morrissey is NOT homosexual. Morrissey is 'humasexual'. Attracted to humans, "but of course ... not many". Just like James Dean. Just like me.

I'm not bisexual. That sounds stupid. But I'm increasingly sexual. I'm attracted to humans, and I don't care if the thing between their legs is a penis or a vagina or something else.

Jimmy Dean, Morrissey and I. We make a good gang. In certain ways, we are the same. The son, the son of the son, the son of the son of the son. What? Yes.

We're all strangely and painfully emotional and all that shit. One of us is dead. Two to go. Wohoo.



There is a person who knits knitted Morrisseys. He/she has a tumblr blog. How heartbreakingly absurd. One of the things that would make me cry if I still did that.

Suddenly I find myself attracted to Miley Curys and Dave Gahan's voice

This story is going to be amazing.

And the book is starting to look quite nice too.

People complaining about treehuggers should either A) get up and, for the first time in their lives, do something themselves, B) admit the fact that the treehuggers are the people making crucial steps in history happen, and that without them, we'd all be screwed.

I'm writing the book I should be writing. I'm Physically Exercicing. I'm talking to new people, almost weekly! There's something hot and new running in my bloodstream. I'm moving in the right Direction. And yesterday I noticed that I was unintentionally wearing clothes that looked kinda good on me. And that I looked kinda good.

I do think there's something valuable in my brain.

The Green Scare - why my love affair with Saga Norén may be forced to end

Although I just wrote an angry and tired writing on a person called Todd Kincannon, he definitely isn't the main reason why I'm feeling angry and tired at the moment. After all he's just a fucked-up individual, who cares; that's nothing compared to a fucked-up society.

The main reason for my tiredness is The Bridge, the Swedish/Danish crime drama television series. (In Swedish Bron, in Danish Broen, in Finnish Silta.)

As I've stated before: I love Saga Norén. Saga Norén is the only reason why I've been watching the series. She's the Swedish homicide detective with Asperger Syndrome; there is something beautiful and fascinating about the character. She's strong and vulnerable at the same time, and always sincere, a bit like Lisbeth Salander, another Swedish girl I love.

So, I like Saga. She's the reason why The Bridge works. She's the kind of character I like to write about, the kind of character I usually write about. I watched the latter half of the first season, and now I've watched the first half of the second season which is currently aired on Finnish TV every Sunday.

Now I'm in pain. I don't want to let go of Saga, but watching the second season of The Bridge has become increasingly painful.

Here's the reason: the Bad Guys in this season are a strange group of environmental and animal activists. They are referred to as 'eco terrorists'. The plot is that these very dangerous and mentally unstable people suddenly attack Normal Society: they start murdering, torturing and poisoning innocent people and then they post videos on the Internet in which they say dramatic things about things like the environmental crisis and animal testing. Their 'message' is that if people don't do what they want them to do, they will kill and destroy everything and so on and so on. They are shown wearing spooky animal masks and attacking Normal People. When they're not busy doing this, they're kicking truck drivers to death or standing in dark cellars whispering to each other like Satanic vampires.

So, in the universe of The Bridge this is what animal/environmental activism is like. These activists are the number 1 threat to normal, sane, meat-eating people who just want to love their children and be Normal without anybody suddenly coming from the bushes and poisoning them.

Cool. Except that this is fiction. Activists like this do not exist in the real world. The term 'eco-terrorism' is a word coined by George W. Bush and his half-criminal buddies in the meat/oil/whatever business. For more information.

Some decades ago homosexual characters in fiction and entertainment always had to die (or just simply get their punishment) before the end of the story. In many ways, today's case resembles the homophobic propaganda of yesterday. Suddenly we have these people that we're slightly intimidated by, but don't really know why, so we have to come up with something. We come up with this.
 
The phenomenon is known as the Green Scare. It is a very handy tool with which the actual bad guys can keep making money while destroying the planet, torturing animals and endangering humans. So, we have these annoying people telling other people that how we make money is highly questionable. What should we do? Hey, what about we start referring to them as 'terrorists' and create this image of creepy psychotic lunatics that you should stay away from?

In the Anglo-American entertainment, the mysterious Eco-terrorists have become a recurring enemy. I don't know whether this has something to do with the sponsors the money comes from, or whether the writers are just excrutiating morons who have no idea what they're actually doing, but I've already accidentally seen psychotic eco-monsters in several episodes of several random TV series: First, Monk (a demonic, balding eco-terrorist killing normal people for obscure reasons), then Law & Order (an unstable girl gets dragged into crazy, violent eco-terrorism, and then the group's members rape and abuse her because well, they are such crazy, violent monsters), then some series with Stephen Fry living in some town (once again, an unstable girl gets dragged into crazy, violent eco-terrorism, this time by a young psychopath named 'Ollie', but fortunately at the end she understands the importance of animal testing - phew).

This time it's personal. This time, for the first time, it's Scandinavia, a culturally 'modern' region that should know better. This time it's Saga. After seeing last night's episode, I actually cried. And I never cry. I used to cry when I was younger, but nowadays I'm physically nearly unable to do it. This time I felt so tired and frustrated that I cried, which was surprising.

The good heart.

I'd understand the use of eco-terrorist demons if they reflected reality. If there actually were individuals behaving in this way in the name of animal or environmental activism, I'd be strongly against them. But they are fictional. People like this, groups like this do not exist. The mere idea of psychopaths deciding to become animal activists is absurd. The point of the whole thing is empathy. In the real world, animal and environmental activists are pretty normal people, people who love their families, friends and dogs just like everybody else. The only thing that makes them different is probably the fateful fact that they are more intelligent and compassionate and have a stronger moral backbone than the average person. Usually they are serious about all the things that matter: human rights, animal rights and the planet all of us live on.

Unlike the people sitting on their comfy sofas eating bacon and whining about treehuggers disturbing their comfortable indifference.

Activists are people who are ready to not only spend their time, but to also risk their freedom, even their lives, to save and help the rest of us. People who are ready to lose everything for the sake of others; humans, pigs and cows that they've never even met but are still almost ridiculously loyal to. These people are ready to go to jail for filming the living conditions of pigs on factory farms, or for non-violent protests against destroying the Arctic.

These people are serious about what they do, and what they do is very heavy and tiring, but at the same time they usually manage to hold on to everything that matters in humanity. Most animal/environmental activists I've ever known (of) in my young life have been exceptionally loving, patient and intellectually honest, and usually also genuinely funny. I'm proud to call myself an activist. Because that is probably the most honourable thing a person can be.

I don't know if the writers of The Bridge realize the impact of what they're doing, but here's the problem: people are not very smart. Most of the people watching The Bridge have probably never personally known a real activist. And then the TV box gives them this image of dangerous terrorists and psychopaths, and how wonderful!

Now we don't have to concentrate on the real problems and the real bad guys! Now we don't have to talk about difficult moral problems, confront the richest bullies in the world and face ourselves as western societies. We can just keep chatting about these scary dark monsters with scary animal masks who are coming to destroy everything and everyone we love.

I mean, this is how animal and environmental activists are like? Right? Right? Why would we listen to people like that?

Let's decide that the hero is our enemy. Then we don't have to stop and listen.

On heroes and bullies, again

I stumbled upon the unfortunate existence of Todd Kincannon, Former South Carolina Republican Party executive director.

Apparently, about 9 months ago Kincannon was watching the Super Bowl when he decided to send out a series of 'racially-charged' tweets in which he 'joked' about black people, Hurricane Katrina, dick-sucking and a murdered black teenager named Treyvon Martin:

Understandably, a lot of people felt offended by Kincannon's painfully unfunny and boring 'humour'. He went on to explain that the reason he did it was that he is some sort of hero, a soldier for free speech, as 'Conservatives' are being oppressed in society and therefore too afraid to say what they really think anymore.

Since then Kincannon has continued attacking other humans on Twitter. For instance Iraq veterans. (No idea why.)

Anyway, a few days ago, Kincannon came back. This time he noticed that a transgender person had said something to him on Twitter. So oppressed Todd courageously said what needed to be said:

What Todd doesn't explain is why being a loser and a weirdo is supposed to be a bad thing.

 

Why do you hate Muslims? You are practically a fundamentalist Muslim.

Or do you just hate the moderate ones?

Yes, Todd. You are evil. Good that the fact seems to have occured to you already.

In most cases, it isn't illegal to insult others intentionally. But it is sad and pathetic that the only way that you could feel conflicted about doing it would be if you had to go to jail for it. Most people have inner compasses like the heart and the brain.

What is interesting about this person is that he's my complete opposite. I've always instinctually identified with the heroes, the good guys, the ones fighting for the weak and little and oppressed. I've always been the kid to stand up for the bullied kids. Todd has probably always been the bully who just simply doesn't get why he shouldn't destroy other people physically and emotionally. I mean, why not, it's fun.

I am, have always been and will always be a hero. As ridiculous and melodramatic as it sounds. I will always be the good guy. Always. For me, that is the only option.

As for Todd Kincannon, the only thing he's capable of doing is looking for somebody to hate. And then finding them. And then doing his best to destroy them.

Why? Because that's the only existence he knows.

My mom read something I'd written and cried. I don't know what to think about that. Maybe it's a good thing. In a way.

Unfortunately I hate everything

Expect certain things that I love very much.

I just wrote like 7 full pages of quite awesome prose. Which has happened pretty rarely lately, as I've been so oddly nervous about everything. When I'm nervous in a bad way, nothing works out. When I'm nervous in the most exciting of ways, things happen.

Priorities, priorities

“You will never reach your destination if you stop and throw stones at every dog that barks.”

- Winston Churchill


Yes, Winston. Something I should learn.

When I see an idiot, I usually want to do something about it. Which isn't very smart, as I could be spending the same time writing books; because if those books turn out the way I want them to, they have the potential to make millions of people see things differently.

I gotta learn, I gotta learn.

This is how I spend my precious time

The last couple of weeks have been incredibly slack. I'm always supposed to do something important. Then I get oddly nervous and end up doing absolutely nothing instead.

This doesn't worry me too much. I think that it's a funny phase, an amusing detail in my life. Lol.

I may know how to run, but I've yet to learn how to run to freedom.



I may know how to walk, but I've yet to learn how to walk towards fire.

How to get out of this?

I am socially disabled

I had a dream where both my dog and Morrissey died. And of course, because it was a dream, nobody else seemed to give a shit about their sudden deaths. So what? they said.

That was a horrible night, followed by an even worse day. For the first time in months (or 2 years), I tried to talk to people. I noticed that I am socially handicapped. My own insecurities and my general unhappiness make me dislike people very easily, and it is difficult. I want people to like me, because I need somebody to like me, and because of this need I end up saying nothing important and just joking around meaninglessly.

I can't talk to people and express my thoughts without seeming like a dick. Somehow I always end up sounding like a racist lunatic or something as ridiculous. And I'm one of those people who barely notice people's races.

After all that, I stopped and stared at my reflection in a store window and I realized that I'm really tired, just so fucking tired of being like this. I wish I was average in at least some way, or most ways, just for one day; all I ask is one fucking day of not being A LOT BETTER than everybody else in certain things and A LOT WORSE than everybody else in all the other ways. I'm not average at anything. Literally, anything.

Oh well. This was one of those darker days. I'm not usually this miserable in this way.

I used to believe in free speech. But then I read some.

Hello!

Lol I'm so weird, why don't I have any friends? I've never kissed anyone. I've never 'dated' anyone. This is so funny! I like living like this, enjoying the weirdness. Perhaps 2 years from these small hours I'll have a bunch of friends to have fun with, friends and girls and sugar daddies to talk to, and whatever, I'm getting ready, ready, ready

Here I am, it's 4:40 AM, and I'm drinking beer and feeling strangely happy.

I remember when I was 8 and our dog had just become a part of our family; and my mother would wake up every night when the puppy cried and howled in the living room. She'd go and hold the puppy and soothe her and let her suck her thumb. And in her arms, the puppy would fall asleep. Now the puppy is 11 years old. I love my dog, I love my mother. They're both such good people and I'd die for them. I'd die for them. I'd die for them.

There's something adorable about xxxxxx that's hard to explain. Apparently she's a vegetarian, but I don't know. If she is a vegetarian, then my head will just explode and my brain will form heart-shaped smudges all over the walls of this holy room

I've never seen my brain, but I suppose it's there. Strange; something I've carried around all my life, something that has been with me every second of my life, and we've never met

They shall keep my brains in a separate room so that scientists and tourists can come and look at them.

I want to be James Dean. I know it's stupid. That has never stopped me.


If my Ghost book turns out the way I want it to, it should have the ambience of this song:

This blog has become somewhat ridiculous. And I like it.


Edit: I AM A GENIUS.

I was supposed to be writing furiously, but instead of that I've spent the whole night watching videos like this:

Strangest song

I thought I was listening to one completely random song on YouTube. The song was extremely strange and artistically challenging.

Turns out I was listening to these two random songs at the same time (for some mysterious reason):

The combination is one of the ugliest and weirdests songs I've ever heard. I recommend.

Ayn Rand was somehow retarded. And not in a good way. Emotionally retarded in a very unpleasant way.

Once again, I don't know whether to feel sorry for someone or just despise them.

My profile pictures are usually horrible.