The Other World

Fuck.

In my home town.

My sister's friend's class. The friend was fortunately on maternal leave. She's supposed to return to school in four months time. I don't think so.

A schoolmate of the shooter had went to the police to tell them take the guy's firearms licence off of him after he showed them the YouTube videos. The police chief it wasn't necessary. Guess who will be torn apart in the internet discussion forums and on the newspapers?

My little brother's class (high school) was having lunch in the nearby junior high cafeteria. They got a call from the headmaster to leave it and return immidiately to there school. They were locked up there for two hours.

In my home town.

Fuck.

"Three in the prize of one: the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit."
"The Pearly Gates Pizza Perfetto: choose the teachings you like and enjoy! Don't forget to spread the word to all your mates!!!"

The God that Christians believe in is schizophrenic, not only physically but mentally as well. There are people out there who consider the Bible to be the word of their God, His genuine and perfect will. Whatever is written in the Bible is correct. All Christians who believe this of the Bible must therefore be either schizophrenics or ignorant. The so-called Good Book is full of paradoxes. God gives the Ten Commandments and strikes down the Tower of Babel giving people numerous languages so they can no longer co-operate (and did a good job at that, I might add). Love your enemies but throw women to men to be raped to death to protect your male guests ("but hey, women aren't me enemies, they're me servants; I mean, you're not gonna tell me to bugger off if I sell some other piece of furniture, are ya?").

I am a perfect Christian. I cite the Scripture and the lines that fit my view of the world and then preach my truth even–or perhaps especially- to those who don't want to hear it.

-----

"I hate God. I hate whatever made this world, I hate whatever made the human race, made men like Caliban possible and situations like this possible.
If there is a God he's a great loathsome spider in the darkness.
He cannot be good.
This pain, this terrible seeing-through that is in me now. It wasn't necessary. It is all pain, and it buys nothing. Gives birth to nothing.
All in vain. All wasted.
The older the world becomes, the more obvious it is. The bomb and the tortures in Algeria and the starving babies in the Congo. It gets bigger and darker.
More and more suffering for more and more. And more and more in vain.
It's as if the lights have fused. I'm here in the black truth.
God is impotent. He can't love us. He hates us because he can't love us.
All the meanness and the selfishness and the lies.
People won't admit it, they're too busy grabbing to see that the lights have fused. They can't see the darkness and the spiderface beyond and the great web of it all. That there's always this if you scratch at the surface of happiness and goodness.
The black and the black and the black.
-- It's as if I can't feel any more. I see, but I can't feel.
Oh God if there is a God.
I hate beyond hate."

From "The Collector" by John Fowles.

It's been a while since my last posting, hasn't it? I've been relatively busy with tutoring and with university. I just came back from an exam, which against all odds, I might pass, which in turn means that I don't have to go through the same course for the third time, which means that I'm now two courses short of getting my Bachelor's degree!

- - - - -

Apart from studying to a seemingly unbeatable examination, I have also been building up my gradu panic which has now attained astronomical levels. By 'astronomical' I don't of course mean that it's *that* important; it's not. It's the panic part that's getting out of hand. I'm not afraid of writing the thesis: that's going to be the easy part. What I do fear is the selection of the subject. You see, it's not only the grade that will be in the final record but the title of the thesis as well. And with this record I am supposed to apply for work. Hence, the title (and therefore the subject) is supposed to have certain requirements filled before I start writing anything. The subject is supposed to be up to date in order to be taken seriously and to have some kind of prestige and so that the thesis will appear to be worth something. The subject is also to be preferably media sexy (to get the study some attention amongst all the other theses) and it should be possibly provocative (for standing out, as well as to create conversation within the academic circle close to me, that is supervisor and the department staff etc.). The subject should also be something I find interesting myself. The subject is to also be something I can develop further one way or another in my forthcoming lisenciate thesis, perhaps also in the doctorate (becoming a PhD is the highest accomplishment I can achieve, so I thrive for that; and if I'm going to bind the Master's thesis somehow to the doctorate, the subject should be something that can be taken seriously and something that gives me prestige as an expert in that particular area). What else should the subject be? A lot of things, I'm sure, but right now I'm out of options. But don't worry, I'm sure I'll come up with a dozen qualities more during the weekend. But as a conclusion: THE SUBJECT SHOULD BE BLOODY GOOD!!!

- - - - -

On Thursday I had a relatively bad day and I ended up neglecting my cool exterior by having an argument with a male exchange student. He was looking for the Student Union premises and I happened to be one he encountered. I agreed to show him the place as I had to go there myself anyway in fifteen minutes time. All would have been well if he hadn't started asking my place of residence and my name and my e-mail address and so on. Plus he had -as most exchange students tend to have- a very uncomfortable way of coming very close to me and what's worse, touch me. I think I told him twice not to touch me before he got it. Anyway, he asked if we could be friends and I right away told him that unless you're gay, the answer is no. I ended up ranting and raving about why I don't want to be friends with men. He just couldn't see my point, but I suppose he -like other men- are raised in a way it's impossible. Now his talking to me every time he sees me. He just won't get the word no. Next time I think I may end up shouting at him and making a scene with the worst kind of sarcasm I can come up with. Perhaps he will then get my point.

You may remember me ranting and raving about the tutoring outcome on 6th of April this year. Well, I'd like to update that a bit.

We had our very final tutor trainings on Monday and Tuesday. Even then I was still a bit doubtful about this; I was so regretful about ever applying for tutoring in the first place that by Wednesday morning when every other tutor expressed how much they were excited I felt no excitement none whatsoever. Which then turned out to be a good thing as I was stupid enough not to stress out and therefore did not mess with words that much (well, any more than I do usually when in contact with previously unknown people) or make that much mistakes otherwise (although one student union guy told us that it doesn't matter even if we make mistakes: the freshmen are so out of everything they're not going to notice). First I had only one woman in my group, but later the same day I had a second student to join us. Today I got an e-mail telling my group will expand with one more student on Monday. Not bad. =) I'm a deluxe tutor. I really do like being useful, knowing I am important to them. To know my tutor uniform lets other students know as well that I am there to help them all. Today I ended up helping a freshman from the technics faculty. My next step is to get overalls of my own where I can sew the nine patches I currently have.

As for the social side I was complaining about... well, I'm scheduled to be part of the World Tour company tomorrow night (we have been divided into pairs each pair having a specific country according to which we are to wear costumes tomorrow evening in the party). Otherwise that's okay, but the actual party (where the costumes are required) won't beginning until ten p.m. I mean... that's when I usually am very much home getting ready to go to bed. Last night I was half asleep by ten! Well, there's no cancelling this one so Im just going to have to grin and bear it through but I am not going to stay there after midnight: that's when I will be home. I'll just end up having my daily rhythm fucked up just when it good for scho... sorry, *university*.

- - - -

Playing now: 'Voodoo Child' by Rogue Traders

"Silent I lie with smile on my face,
Appearance decieves and the silence betrays"

Perhaps I need to find an excuse to squeeze myself with the other tutors in the English department on Wednesday?

Okay, nearly three months has passed since I began my so-called summer leave and my reading tournament. Here's all the books I have finished since the day my leave began by handing in the very last piece of assignment (31.5.) and the last day before my autumn term (today as in 24.8.).

Atwood, Margaret: The Handmaid's Tale
Beauvoir, Simone de: Lempeä kuolema
Calvino, Italo: Koko kosmokomiikka
Canth, Minna: Työmiehen vaimo
Cunningham, Michael: The Hours
Despentes, Virginie: King Kong -tyttö
Diamond, Jared: Miksi seksi on hauskaa?
Dickens, Charles: Hard Times
Duffy, Stella: Immaculate Conceit
Eliot, T.S.: Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats
Gliori, Debi: Magiaa mafian tahtiin
Hayden, Torey: Aavetyttö
Hayden, Torey: The Very Worst Thing
Kallas, Aino: Sudenmorsian
Kaysen, Susanna: Girl, Interrupted
Kesey, Ken: Yksi lensi yli käenpesä
Kingsolver, Barbara: The Poisonwood Bible
Kirschner, Josef: Egoistin käsikirja
Lindsay, Jeff: Dexterin pimeät unet
Morrison, Toni: Tar Baby
Nousiainen, Miika: Vadelmavenepakolainen
Onkeli, Kreetta: Iloinen talo
Saadawi, Nawal El: God Dies by the Nile
Salinger, J.D.: Cathcher in the Rye
Saramago, José: The Gosple According to Jesus Christ
Shriver, Lionel: Poikani Kevin
Snicket, Lemony: Surkeiden sattumusten sarjan osat 1-8
Twain, Mark: Matkakirjeitä Maasta
Utrio, Kaari: Kiilusilmä feministi
Wassmo, Herbjörg: Dinan kirja

It easy to notice Finland is the promised land for metal music. There's very little other type of music unless it's mainstream. So trying to track down Rogue Traders from online stores is nearly futile. I only found 'Here Come the Drums' but not 'Better in the Dark' which is what I was trying to find.

Blaah.

YIPPIKIYAY!!! WHOHOOO!!!

We went through the first half of the new choreography last night and according to the instructor we had the goldfish expression again (=the look we have on our faces during the first times of new choreography when we try to predict which way to go next and how and when we try to keep up with the instructor). I love the Rogue Traders track in warm up ("I never liked you even when I tried to"; I know the feeling exactly). It would appear there are more changes between the strikes and kicks than in the previous/current programme. But I can't wait to go through the rest of 37 at some point (not sure about the track 9, though...). But there's more Within Temptation to come: 'Our Solemn Hour' is excellent!

Here is the full tracklist according to Surfnux (http://surfnux.theuseless.com/2008/08/04/complete-body-combat-37-tracks-list/):

01. Summer Of '69 - Mega-mania & I Never Liked You - Rogue Traders
02. Beat It - Fall Out Boy feat. John Mayer
03. Baby I'll Let You Know - Darryn Styles vs Hypasonic
04. We Will Survive - Warp Brothers & The Great Bouzouki - Krid P
05. How Far We've Come - Matchbox Twenty
06. Stamp - Jeremy Healy & Amos
07. Let The Beat Control Your Body - 2 Unlimited
08. Sea Of Love (Hixxy Remix) - Frisco
09. Church - T-Pain featuring Teddy Verseti
10. Our Solemn Hour - Within Temptation

My cousin surprised me last weekend when I realised I had seriously underestimated her abilities. She understood what we said. If someone asked where Rape (= a teddy bear duck making quaa quaa noises) is, she had an idea where to look it from. AND she could show some of her body parts when named by someone else: ear, nose, belly button, toe (= "vaava"). And then of course the most important ones: "ei" (accompanied by shaking of ones head and having an idea of the things she is not to play with) and "gaugo" (= kauko = remote control; she is a wannabe-engineer if based on her fascination to all technical stuff she's not allowed to play with). We are yet to decipher the meaning of "taijiliji". Getting her dressed was a small miracle: she could have been Superman, she went around so fast. Putting on the shoes was the new clash of the titans when I wouldn't let go off the shoelaces until I could tie them up to prevent her tripping because of them. Eventually we both had to give in a bit but I did manage to finish the job. After a few minutes... And eating and sleeping are no fun with the teeth about to burst. Hopefully they'll burst soon, both for her sake as well as her parents' sake.

The other day I was walking home from the centrum and got stopped three times within five minutes. No, it wasn't because I looked somehow weird (well, weirder than usually) and it wasn't the Finnish police force either. Some group of twenty-something people had been set loose to talk to people.

First I was stopped by two women. They gave me a pamflet inviting me to a get-together of sorts. As a linguist accustomed to Halliday's grammar I have to admire how cleverly it was designed. No part of the paper showed the underlying ideology except for one small thing: there was their website in small print on the right hand corner, a website whose name included the word 'congregation'. So to answer their invitation I kindly thanked them and said no, and as they were in need of further explanation, I pointed out it was a religious thing and therefore I have no interest in joining them. I bid them good day and hoped it'll stop raining to make their quest a bit easier.

Thirty seconds later another pair of women stopped me, handing me the exactly the same pamflet as the previous pair. Again I declined and said their colleagues had already talked to me not a minute earlier. But -and this is important- I was still polite and relatively kind as well. The problem presented itself in the form of three young men stopping me about thirty seconds after the second encounter. These people were giving out a newspaper with different headlines, one of them catching my attention as it had the word 'God'. And eventhough I pointed that out to them and said it is why I am not interested, they just kept pushing it (very manly thing to do, don't you think, not understanding the word 'no' or anything semanticly similar?). Let it be pointed out that until then I had been relatively calm and polite. Then one of the guys blocking my way said it wasn't about religion, that it was about the love of Jesus. As I did then, I still don't understand how those two things are *not* the same bloody thing. Anyway, the next thing I know is him telling me that I "need to go to heaven". I was beginning to get pissed (not the least because a man thinks he has any right to question what I want... but that, too, is very manly way of behaviour, so I shouldn't be that surprised...). In a more irritated voice I question who the hell is it that can say that I *need* to go to heaven. And the he says the magic words: "Jesus loves you".

Counterpoint #1: "Oh, really? I was under the impression there's plenty of people out there saying exactly the opposite."

Counterpoint #2: "You mean you *think* Jesus loves me. When you say it without the preceeding clause you make it sound like you know for a fact, that you're 100 percent sure that Jesus loves me and that you cannot know."

Counterpart #3: "When you say 'Jesus loves you', what you really mean is that you think Jesus loves me but only *if* I do certain things that you promote. Being what I am now is not good enough for Jesus, and most certainly not your angry, vengeful and dictatorial God."

I should have told them to go fuck themselves.