Supply Propaganda

« A rather eye catching window display in Katajanokka. I thought it might be the place to purchase the orbiting terraforming laser I've been wanting but, no, the Guerrilla Store looks like it's a fashion house for those wanting the "Che" look. »

There's a new timesink in town; Solarian II has been ported to OS X. I loved this game way back when. I've been wishing for a return of Lunatic Fringe and they even mention a desire to port LF on the Solarian page but are having a difficult time finding who owns the copyright these days. Surely someone must know who does as that game was more addictive than Maelstrom and deserves to be revived.

permalink Ω 29 September 2004, Helsinki

8 Tuntia. 12 Kuvia. Monta hahaha.

« A magician giving sidewalk performances on Helsinki's Night of the Arts before it started to rain. He roped me into helping with a few tricks and I was reasonably impressed. It was the first time in 16[?] years that it rained on the festival. I took a few photos, including this one, with the Leica before the pissing heavens drove most of the entertainment and people somewhere indoors and most others just stayed home. »

For some inexplicable reason, the evening before Taiteidenyö [Night of the Arts], I noticed in the Finnish programme something that looked like a photo scavenger hunt so I looked for it in the English translation just to make sure I wasn't misreading it. There was a Fotomaraton that was open to mobile, digital and film photographers with the objective of taking 12 photos in 8 hours directed by clues dispensed every 2 hours over the course of the evening from 4pm - midnight. I'm a glutton for self-punishment and rejection so naturally I thought this was quite possibly the most fabulous idea ever and took me and my Lomo on down to Vanha at the designated hour to get my film and my first set of clues. I figured the Lomo was the ultimate in art student camera since you can't always predict how the camera will behave or where it will decide to focus thus creating Art. :) I should have listened to the words of Henri Cartier-Bresson:

A photograph is neither taken nor seized by force. It offers itself up. It is the photo that takes you. One must not take photos.

The clues were hard, especially since they were in Finnish and the cultural in-jokes were lost on me. I had to call Jarkko a few times, especially for "Vain mäkikotka tietää" [Only the skijumper knows] since, aside from a suicidal tendency and knowing where to get good ski wax, I had no idea what skijumpers know. :) The weather and lack of car didn't help either since we had only 2 hours to take precisely 3 photos in the order of the clue's appearance on the list and so we couldn't really stray too horribly far from Vanha on foot. Jarkko valiantly came along for the evening portion of the madness and held the umbrella against the rain while I took a few shots. It was a lot of fun but if they have it next year and it doesn't rain, I'll have a few ideas on how to make my entry suck less.

The show of the winners photos opens tonight at 7pm on the 2nd floor of Lasipalatsi and I'm really interested in seeing what other people took photos of for all those crazy clues. You can enjoy my non-award-winning Fotomaraton entry in the comfort of your office or bedroom where you can laugh with me in private. The bold text is the clue in Finnish and English and they are in the same order as the clues were given. :)

permalink Ω 28 September 2004, Helsinki

Whisky

« A few photos of expatriate camaraderie over drinks and conversation. »

I finally paid a visit to the place to go in Helsinki for whisky, Pikkulintu [Klaavuntie 11], in an unsuspecting east suburban strip mall about 100m from the Puotila metro station. The name means 'little bird' which breaks from the usual naming convention for whisky pubs, much like the naming convention for PC hardware, where as much masculinity and testosterone is placed into the name as the language will allow, e.g. Ye Olde Cocke and Balls. In spite of the delicate name and the suburban location, it earns the reputation for being the best place in Helsinki for whisky lovers since the list of expressions is impressive and even more impressive is the owner/bartender behind the bar who knows his whisky and keeps half of the whisky he has off the list hidden in the back room away from the dilettantes.

We sat at the rail and had a few wee drams, but the two that were the most memorable were new Islay malts. The first was the Bowmore Mariner which is a 15yo dram that has a bit of sherry taste along with the briny, seaweedy Islay taste. The new Ardbeg Uigeadail (pronounced Oog-adal) is heavenly and of the alleged 3 bottles currently in Finland, 2 of them are at Pikkulintu. We tried to order a bottle or 2 from Loch Fyne Whiskies mail order but, sadly, they're currently awaiting a new bottling. Uigeadail is a cask strength smoky Ardbeg that has been aged in sherry and bourbon casks along with a hint of peppery ginger. I really hope that new bottling comes along soon. :)

Is it a sign I've been living in Finland too long when I keep reading Hurricane Jeanne as Hurricane Janne? :)

And, plush toys for those with a medical or sick sense of humour, giant microbes. Clandestina: 5 destinations and 5 photographers per issue has some interesting photos from unusual places around the globe.

permalink Ω 27 September 2004, Helsinki

Beer Circles

« If only all the Helsinki city trams featured a bar, curtains, a loo and inlaid wooden benches like Spårakoff. »

Every big city has some attraction that the locals eschew as a tourist trap and, if I had to think of one for Helsinki, Spårakoff would likely be it. Boston has the duck tours but Spårakoff doesn't feature an annoyingly perky tour guide spewing useless trivia about Helsinki that you won't remember as you whiz by at 50mph while wishing that you had a beer. No, Spårakoff rolls quietly around the city in a loop [~160kb map] while you look out the window and enjoy a beer or two along with the scenery. The tram only runs from May through August which seems wrong since the times you'd want to ride on a cozy tram drinking beer would likely be more during the cold and dark months rather than the warm and sunny months, but unsurprisingly tourists don't flock to Helsinki during the dark times. There's very little mention of the tram on the net in English and so I suppose that it's something the natives want to ride on but only do when they have a visitor to take along as an excuse for being such a tourist. :)

I had always wanted to take a ride on it since first seeing the red tram, but it's not really something you make time for when you live here, ride the regular trams, have seen the sights and don't feel like parting with 7€ for admission and 5€ for a beer just for a 40-60 minute ride around town. A short ferry ride to Tallinn, a few cases of Koff, and back costs only a few euros more. It's a beautiful old tram appointed with a bar, polished wood seats, carpet and velvet curtains which gives the air of being both modern and vintage at the same time. The tables even have built-in cup holders to keep spillage down to a minimum. The tram was originally built in 1959 for Helsinki City Transport, who still operate the tram, and it has been a pub tram serving Koff beer and cider since 1995. The brochure mentions that it has a capacity for 24 people sitting, 6 people standing and, 1 seat in the WC. :) Koff still delivers kegs of beer to local pubs via a wagon pulled by draft horses driven by 2 gentlemen, too, so I think they have a penchant for nostalgia.

permalink Ω 26 September 2004, Helsinki

Death by Mushroom

« Mushrooms that resemble the Lauttasaari water tower. »

Finland has a thing for mushrooms because, I suppose, they grow pretty well here and they are plentiful this time of year. The first time I visited Helsinki, I fell in love with the Lauttasaari water tower because I thought it looked like an alien space ship or mushroom that had an eerie blue glow at night. The water towers in Finland frequently resemble mushrooms or other fanciful shapes, but the Lauttasaari space mushroom remains my favourite.

On one of the first grocery shopping trips I noted a wide array of mushrooms in the produce section and Jarkko pointed out the false morels that he said were deadly unless cooked properly [I will add here that there is a marvelous Nordic and Russian languages food glossary as well as a very beautifully done Finnish/Russian collection of recipes on the same website]. This, of course, was noted next to the harmless looking fungi, but only in Finnish. I suppose that I was shocked to think that anything in the grocery might actually be deadly, especially for some city kid like me who wouldn't know my ass from a poisonous mushroom if let into the woods on my own. My German mother loved to drag us out into the woods to hunt for morels as well as for blackberries to make into jams. The only problem with this was that if you didn't put at least 3 rubberbands/elastics around your sleeves and pant legs and wear gloves on your hands and plastic bags over your socks, you'd be in agony for a week or more due to the dreaded fuckingus chiggerius. These guys are invisible and invite 5000 of their closest friends to dine on your digested flesh, they make mosquitos look good. My choice whether to forage in the woods with the flesh eaters vs. shopping in the grocery in later years was pretty easy.

I also immediately thought of the liability insurance and lawsuits in the US arising from all the deaths of people who couldn't be bothered to read the warning signs next to them. Perhaps this is passive Darwinism in Finland at work since kids here are trained in the art of identifying mushrooms and berries, even the Latin taxonomic names, from birth so the unsuspecting foreigners who go to the shop and think they look yummy and eat them raw, get removed from the gene pool. I wonder how many cases of death by toxic mushroom happen every year. The woolly milkcap above, a.k.a. Lactarius torminosus, is toxic if not parboiled before eating. I have to admit that its peach colour with furry texture wouldn't lead me to pick it and eat it without the onset of starvation. I think I'll stick with shopping in the grocery and eating only those things that I recognize and am sure won't kill me. :)

The Baltic herring market [note to port of helsinki webmaster: 20 lines of plaintext in a .doc format is really aggravating.] is coming soon so we should all prepare for the herring breath and seagulls. A friend who lives in LA composed a lovely poem one night on IRC about herring that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.

Burning Herring by Conrad

My herring burns at both ends
It will not last the night
But oh my friends
But oh my friends
It is a fucking FISH on FIRE!

I've decided to work with B&W film a bit more since I actually prefer it to colour film but the cost of developing it is mysteriously double the cost of developing other films. So, I'm going to start developing the film myself and use my cheap negative scanner for displaying them on the net. The equipment needed is actually pretty simple and the instructions from Ilford make it seem very hard to fuck up. I've always wanted to try developing film so why not? Hey, I'm a chemist, I should be able to manage this...I think. If anyone knows of the secret place where one can get development equipment and chemicals, aside from fotoyks, in a one-stop kind of shopping orgy, I'd be much obliged for any information leading to the stinking-up of our sauna-soon-to-be-darkroom.

Addendum: I was thinking why the varmints are called chiggers and went to look it up in the Dictionary of American Regional English and thought I'd share. :)

chigger n Pronc-spp cheeger, chego chigo(e), chigre, chigroe [Alter of Cariban chigoe] CFjigger Note: since both chigger and jigger are used of two similar tiny parasites, a mite (sense 1 below) which is widely distributed in the US, and a flea (sense 2 below) found chiefly in the South, there is overlapping both of the creatures' occucrrence and of the names, with some popular confusion.

1 A harvest mite (Trombicula spp.) Also called jigger,redbug

2 also chigoe flea: A flea (Tunga penetrans) that burrows into the skin. Also called jigger.

The first citation is from 1851 but I'm pretty sure the native Americans had a few choice words for them as well. It's interesting to note that the false belief that it 'burrows into the skin' remains even in the recent DARE definition.

permalink Ω 23 September 2004, Helsinki

Books are the real magic

« I saw this while waiting for a movie and it took me a second or three to figure out what was wrong with the display; someone had ripped off the heads of the Thunderbirds. Seems to be a trend around the world these days. »

I cringed recently when I read a fawning review of a new book being touted as "Harry Potter for adults" since I tried and failed to find Harry Potter remotely interesting and previous experience has shown that anything getting that amount of hype is an Oprah book club "suburbanite special" selection. I can't remember a title that has gotten more glowing reviews from even the usually harsh and bitchy critics so my curiosity was piqued enough to order a copy of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell. I almost didn't order it since I'm waiting for Stephenson's new 900 page tome to be released next week but reading is one of the perks of being an unemployed slacker with too much time on my hands.

Just from the first few hundred pages I can verify that the book deserves all the literary kudos it has been getting as well as the narrative being irresistibly addictive. Susanna Clarke's mastery of English is truly a joy to behold in an age where I have nearly given up on fiction due to lackluster language and plots. I remain rather curious about the 'retro' fad of Napoleonic or Victorian novels lately and a general trend of fiction set in some past romantic timeframe. I suppose that it is because books about the present or the past 100 years are less able to transport us to a time where things seemed to make sense, even with the element of magical fantasy. It's like an 800 page time machine where CNN and beheadings in Iraq have no context or place. It is likely to be an instant classic as so many have commented and WSOY has already licensed the rights to the book although I don't envy the Finnish translator given the richness of the English. I'll bet the book burning fundamentalists who torched countless Potter books for their 'witchcraft' will be stocking up on the kindling and matches for the Strange & Norrell book, too, which can only do marvelous things for sales. :)

Another book, from the creator of Maus, In the Shadow of No Towers; a lavishly illustrated, scathingly critical comic on 911 and its aftermath in the US. It has rightfully stirred a bit of controversy and I wish it were more freely available to the voting public before the elections.

permalink Ω 22 September 2004, Helsinki

CNN is a Dirty Bomb

« If Finnish artists made missiles, I'd guess that this is what they'd look like; the Puuinen KKKK. Tall. Erect. Pointy. Wooden. Geometric. Stylish. »

I've been thinking about going home to see the family I've not seen for nearly 3 years, but the presidential election's circus-like slimefest and fear-mongering, like the 'nuclear terror' special CNN ran tonight, gives me a migraine at the thought of entering American airspace since I figure if I don't get bombed out of the sky or get trapped in the US if something like a dirty bomb did happen, I'd get the "Welcome to Gitmo" travel package from the US customs guards when I refuse the anal probe on presentation of my passport. Dammit, I want to go home and have some Ted Drewe's frozen custard before they close for the season and get some real damn BBQ that you just can't get anywhere else even though plenty of places on the planet try to fake it. I dream sometimes about a big, thick, juicy porterhouse steak and cornbread. I crave food, folks and fun but, in spite of whatever the US media crackheads have been smoking to report 'the world being safer' thanks to the US military, out here in reality I'm just not sure that my desire to visit home exceeds my desire to not get in the way of some wackos when tensions are clearly on the rise. Perhaps I need to send a telegram to the people of America.

YO, AMERICA, NO ONE GIVES A SHIT ABOUT WHO SERVED WHERE AND WHEN AS DUMBYA HAS ALREADY BEEN PROVEN A LIAR AND HIS RATINGS STILL ARE BETTER THAN KERRYS STOP SHUT UP ABOUT THE FUCKING TYPOGRAPHY AND AUTHENTICITY OF THE STUPID FUCKING NATIONAL GUARD DOCUMENTS ALREADY STOP IT AINT HELPING STOP REALLY STOP PLEASE START ASKING QUESTIONS ABOUT SHIT THAT MATTERS LIKE EDUCATION, ECONOMICS AND MAKING NICE WITH THE REST OF THE WORLD NOW THAT EVERYONE HATES US AND MOST OF US LIVING OUTSIDE THE US PRETEND TO BE CANADIANS WHEN ASKED [EXCEPT IN FINLAND DURING WORLD HOCKEY FINALS] STOP MAYBE TALK ABOUT ALL THE DEAD BODIES OR SOMETHING STOP ANYTHING ASIDE FROM THE COMPLETELY POINTLESS AND UTTERLY AGGRAVATING IDIOTIC EXERCISE IN TRYING TO OUTSNAGGLE THE SPIN MACHINE STOP GEORGIE WAS AN ALCOHOLIC DRUNK DRIVING COKE SNORTING LOSER WHOSE DADDY GOT HIM WHERE HE IS TODAY STOP GET OVER IT AS HE IS AN UPSTANDING CITIZEN COMPARED TO MOST FOLKS THESE DAYS STOP PLEASE SEND CHEEZE-ITS AND CORNDOGS STOP MY HEAD IS GOING TO EXPLODE BEFORE NOVEMBER STOP

permalink Ω 20 September 2004, Helsinki

What the trees know

« A rowan tree, heavily laden with fruit foretelling a harsh winter. »

Talking about the weather and weather folklore has to be one of the few universal traits that transcends race and culture. Everybody has some goofy 'old wives tale' about a wolly worm with a full furry coat signals a harsh winter. This year, the rowan trees in Finland are practically bending to the ground they are so full of fruit which I am told is part of the Finnish weather folklore and warns people of a harsh winter approaching. I don't know that I believe it, but with the geese migrating early and the generally crappy weather we've had all summer long, I'm starting to wonder what nature knows that we don't.

Back home, we've got lots of weather sayings and wives tales, and some of them are pretty funny. I haven't found anything with a collection of Finnish weather folklore, but I'm guessing that it isn't terribly different. You have to wonder where some of these stories came from and why people still either believe them or mention them aside from their entertainment value.

Weather Folklore

• Horses run fast before a violent storm or before windy conditions.
• Pigs gather leaves and straw before a storm.
• Flowers close up before a storm.
• If the bull leads the cows to pasture, expect rain; if the cows precede the bull, the weather will be uncertain.
• Expect rain and maybe severe weather when dogs eat grass.
• Wolves always howl more before a storm.
• When the rooster goes crowing to bed, he will rise with a watery head.
• Ants are busy, gnats bite, crickets sing louder then usual, spiders come down from their webs, and flies gather in houses just before rain and possible severe storms.
• Evening red and morning gray are sure signs of a fine day.
• Evening gray and morning red, put on your hat or you'll wet your head.
• When small clouds join and thicken, expect rain.
• Dandelion blossoms close before a storm.
• If autumn leaves are slow to fall, prepare for a cold winter..
• When the leaves of trees turn over, it foretells windy conditions and possible severe weather.
• Redbirds or Bluebirds chatter when it's going to rain.
• Birds on a telephone wire indicate the coming of rain.
• Before a storm, cows will lie down and refuse to go out to pasture.
• When spiders weave their webs by Noon, fine weather is coming soon.
• If wasps build their nests high, the winter will be long and harsh.
• When it is evening you say, "It will be fair, for the sky is red." In the morning, "It will be stormy today, for the sky is red and threatening." Matthew 16:2
• It will be a cold, snowy winter if:
  -Squirrels accumulate huge stores of nuts.
  -Beavers build heavier lodges than usual.
  -Hair on bears and horses is thick early in season.
  -the breastbone of a fresh-Cooked turkey is dark purple.
• A severe summer denotes a windy autumn; a windy winter a rainy spring; a rainy spring a severe summer; a severe summer a windy autumn; a month that comes in good, goes out bad.
• The sky turns green in a storm when there is hail.
• A veering wind will clear the sky, a backing wind says storms are nigh.
• When you look out your window and see your Dogs jumping around and ducking Its a sign that its hailing.
• When dogs in your house start looking paranoid schizophrenic expect very heavy sleet for 5 hours.

permalink Ω 17 September 2004, Helsinki

Photobooth

« Two geeks, two photobooths, 8 frames. Both booths seemed to experience technical problems with the developer but still it was goofy, random fun. »

Self-portraits have always seemed terribly narcissistic and vain to me and I especially hated the years of school yearbook photos we were forced to have taken since they were always awful. The man who 'invented' the concept of individual annual school portraits died this week and I thought a fitting burial would be to fill his grave with millions of the photos he cursed us all with, including mine from the years of braces which made me look like Jaws had he worn plaid skirts while gnawing on James Bond. Still, there's something strangely curious about looking at yourself in 16 or more annual portraits that illustrate how quickly you changed even though time seemed to stand still when you were in grade school. Once we are out of school we rarely bother with the annual portrait and one morning you wake up, look tiredly in the mirror and wonder who the old prune is staring back at you. I've been thinking that getting our picture taken in a photobooth once a year or so might be a fun way to watch ourselves age. :)

Perhaps the only photos of myself have been taken in a photobooth for various identification purposes like passes for the underground, but I've always had a fascination with photobooths for some inexplicable reason. How can you not love a contraption that takes such bad pictures that they even make a Finnish immigration officer titter and smirk at them? I bought a copy of Photobooth expecting to read the history of the device and anecdotal personal vignettes from people who have had a love for them over the years, but sadly it only has a few pages of text and the rest is filled with photobooth strips from the last 70 years or so. The photos are amazingly interesting and some of them make you truly curious about what ever happened to the person staring back at you. The author has a site called the found photo, but it seems to be under permanent construction which is a pity since a site filled with found photobooth photos could really be a wonderful archive to browse through much like a grandparent's shoebox in the attic.

There isn't much at all on the net that I could find about the Siberian immigrant named Anatol Josepho who patented the concept for the photobooth in 1925. There's a history book for just about every other obscure and esoteric topic these days, why not the photobooth, its inventor and the people who loved the photos? In an age where everything is pushing towards the digital, there's something comforting about the steadfast analog technology that still works well, even if you have to stand around the booth trying to look casual while waiting for the pictures to develop. I found the photobooth directory which looks to be an ambitious project that could use a little more love as film booths get harder to find in the US with every passing day.

permalink Ω 16 September 2004, Helsinki

Advanced Fee Methodology

« Three smiths, three hammers, one bra. »

I've been thinking about enrolling in the University of Nigeria's courses in economics lately since it seems to work pretty well for the graduates. It made me wonder what such a business proposal would look like if it came from Finland instead of Nigeria. Just think of what advanced fee methodologies could do for Finnish enterprise!

URGENT AND CONFIDENTIAL

ATTN:PRESIDENT/CEO

REQUEST FOR URGENT BUSINESS PROPOSAL

My name is Väinämöinen from Kaleva and I am in dire need of assistance. Your name and address from a mutual close friend who indicated that you would be discreet and helpful.

My people have lost an item of unimaginable wealth to the Mistress of the North, Louhi. The sampo, forged by my good friend the smith Ilmarinen, is capable of producing unlimited amounts of salt, flour and money for those who possess it. Ilmarinen was rewarded for his creation with a wife as he was promised, but I have led many ill-fated attempts to recoup the sampo from the evil Louhi and we need your help.

The sampo is in a Pohjola safe deposit box but, alas, I cannot get to it because of Louhi and my people are starving and dying of the cold. If you can send us $150,000 to buy food and munitions with, we will give you a 25% share the endless wealth of the sampo when we have recovered it.

This is a totally risk-free proposal and the return on your investment to save my people will be infinite wealth! Please treat this matter as very urgent.

Best regards,

Väinämöinen

permalink Ω 14 September 2004, Helsinki

The Day The Earth Froze

I've been watching the 1980s TV serial adaptation of the Kalevala, Rauta-aika [Iron Age], being shown in 4 parts on Tuesdays on YLE2. I've never really liked adaptations which may be due to having been forced to sit through a torturous production of Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing that was set on a tennis court and featured something I could only describe as valley girls with big hair and bubble gum. The actors were lucky we didn't start throwing things and booing. Rauta-aika isn't all that bad even though the actors speak prose and some of the costumes are pretty over the top. A few days ago I mentioned the show to Chip Salzenberg, the human movie quote database, who immediately asked, "The Day the Earth Froze?" No, the Kalevala, not some bad sci-fi flick. As it happens, Chip and Jeff Goff are MST3K devotees who provided me with the MST3K episode featuring the absurdly bad The Day the Earth Froze which, in spite of the misleading title, is a 1959 movie of the Kalevala.

The movie was titled Sampo everywhere else but the US without explanation as to who thought the B-movie sci-fi title would be a brilliant replacement. The US version is also about 30 minutes shorter although, judging by what wasn't cut, it likely was an act of mercy. The Ministry of Culture in the then USSR apparently funded and commissioned this entertainment bomb for some deeply mysterious reason. The US version changes many the Russian and Finnish names to sound, presumably, less like commies and the opening credits manage to misspell Lönnrot's name. The MST3K guys often mock the Swedish in the episode but I think the Finns wouldn't bother to correct them and let the Swedes take all the credit for this total suckfest. The English dubbing over the original Russian is spectacularly bad, too, as I guess no one bothered to ask how the Finnish words and names were pronounced and, after a while, I think they just started making shit up. One of the more hilarious moments of heckling is when Crow makes fun of the actress who plays Louhi by saying, "Marty Feldman in a role that won't surprise you!" :)

It was good for a laugh but it was like watching a Paris Hilton version of Walden Pond set in a luxury tourist resort where you begin to wonder if you haven't slipped into a parallel and alternate reality. It's a pity that no one has actually done a full movie production of the Kalevala or a film of the people who kept the stories alive before they were finally collected by Lönnrot and written down. I think even a low-budget "Blair Witch" style Kalevala movie would suck less than this movie does. I have a new appreciation for Rauta-aika now. :)

permalink Ω 13 September 2004, Helsinki

The Gloom Report

« A ferry bound for Tallinn looks more like a Christmas tree than a boat. »

The week lived up to my estimation of suck. HB had a visit with the vet this morning and, well, his days are numbered and few. It is somewhat bizarre when you start to discuss the process of putting a pet, a member of the family, a friend you've had for 13 years since he was a pup, 'to sleep'. I was relieved to know that the procedure shares much in common with the human kevorkian protocol as there are three stages instead of the vision I had of them going right for the injection in the arm which HB would be utterly traumatised over since the last time anyone got near his arm with a needle for a blood sample, he flinched and it took 2 weeks of daily visits and cookies to get him to allow the same again. So, I'm in a bit of a darker mood than I was at the beginning of the week and haven't been answering my email much either.

And, aside from the gloom report, there's a cool photo exhibit and camera sale over at my favourite Leica shop on Uudenmaankatu, EP-Kamera. Ukko Heikkinen's lovely photos taken around Helsinki with a Lubitel 166 camera are on display M[12-18]-Th[11-17] and EP is and has been selling a stock of Russian cameras, mostly FEDs as I recall, for 25 euro per kilo, yes you read that correctly, kilo. I don't need any more cameras so someone should go buy them all soon before I do something rash.

permalink Ω 8 September 2004, Helsinki

Turd Ferguson

« One of several art installations around Helsinki for the Helsinki Arts Festival entitled, "The Wailing Wall". The walls were filled with empty film canisters that people were invited to fill with notes written on day-glow coloured papers. It reminded me of the old lite-brites where you'd make a design with coloured pegs although the new models for kids these days seem too molded and modern when compared to the original low-tech box with a bulb inside of it. »

At the height of my inbox madness a few years ago, I think I subscribed to about 45 different mailing lists, some of which had a very high daily volume of spew. When I left the US, I unsubscribed to almost all of them since I was afraid I might be offline for a while and I didn't want the disks to fill. I never re-subscribed and, the few that I did keep I punted last week after moving all my crap off of the old box where I used to read my mail. I can go a few days without looking at my inbox and really not worry as a huge percentage of the mail is spam and the rest is mostly from friends and nice people who take the time to write to me. I surf list archives if and when I bother to care which, I find, isn't very often anymore. People talk about rss feeds for mailing lists in glowing terms but I think they're forgetting that rss doesn't list only the posts with something worth reading in them. I'd be willing to pay for summarizers to wade through the dreck and send me the few worthwhile nuggets of info. Screw rss, I want intelligent agents that won't waste my time.

One of the three lists I remain subscribed to and lurk on is the American Dialect Society mailing list digest which has a very high signal:noise ratio and often has something of interest or amusement. One of the most entertaining posters is Barry Popik whose atom feed of word etymologies and ephemera is excellent. He's an administrative law judge of parking violations in NYC by day and the modern mad professor for the OED the rest of the time, particularly for food words. He's also an editor for the upcoming drool-worthy Encyclopedia of Food and Drink in America from OUP. Today's digest had a particularly fun list of college slang from Barry who I presume was looking for "Turd Ferguson" and found an article about a book on college slang. I had to giggle since I know the phrase and I know it's not a food. :) I'm not sure which is more disturbing; that I've actually used Turd Ferguson in a sentence or finding it in a book title. I think it's mostly a mid-westernism, but slang gets around and it's hard to say for sure. Turd Ferguson & the Sausage Party: An Uncensored Guide to College Slang looks like a pretty hilarious book and a way to make my English a little more fresh and hip. I mean, I've not heard or said Turd Ferguson in years! Pure nostalgia. There is a short list of some of the words from the book.

• Bar Scar: All the wristbands and ink left over after making the rounds at the bars.
• Cash Cow: An ATM.
• Greek Freak: A new pledge who is super-absorbed in sorority/fraternity goings-on.
• Hallcest: The dangerous act of getting with someone on your hall.
• Hitting the Snooze Bar: To continue to hook up with someone even though you should really break up. Prolonging the inevitable.
• Kelvin Club: The rare feat of having a GPA that equals absolute zero.
• Liquid Encouragement: Refers to how alcohol can help you be able to talk or attempt to talk to anyone.
• Osmosis: A method of study employed by crammers who fall asleep with their heads on their books. Not very reliable.
• Party Foul: An incident that goes against the rules of the party. For example, spilling your glass of red wine on the Dean's white carpet during an elegant mixer or mistaking the coat closet for a bathroom.
• Pizza Bones: The uneaten crust of a pizza. Often scavenged by cheap friends like Barry down the hall.
• Sausage Party: A gathering of many more men than women.
• Sexiled: When someone is forced to sleep outside his/her room when his/her roomate wants to have sex in the room.
• Tomb of the Dead Soldiers: A trashcan filled with many, many beer cans.
• Turd Ferguson: A social sore who decides things like exposing oneself in public or driving drunk are good ideas.
• Vitamin N: Short for vitamin nicotine. Refers to having a cigarette first thing in the morning.
• Vurp: When you burp but some vomit comes up, too. A very nasty experience.

permalink Ω 8 September 2004, Helsinki

Shiny happy people

« Krishnas on the Esplanadi. Shiny happy people. »

I always used to associate Krishnas with airports and vegetarian food. People smile, point and giggle at them as people dancing around and chanting might seem odd in places where dancing around and chanting are reserved for the drunks or the insane, but since living in Finland I've grown rather fond of them because they smile at everyone in a place where smiling at strangers just isn't done. People make fun of you if you're too happy and dancing and people think you're a freak if you're a cynical grump so it's no wonder most people take the stonefaced option.

It's going to be a crap week as, aside from all the other things getting me down, it is likely time to discuss the kevorkian option for HoneyBear with the vet. And, I'm one year older today, too. Yay. Maybe I should go join the Krishnas.

permalink Ω 7 September 2004, Helsinki

A non-expert explains Finnglish

« "Tex" in a 10-gallon hat and cravat listens to the Peruvians performing in Three Smiths Square. I had to resist the urge to laugh since it seemed as incongruous as wearing a Lappish hat in downtown Dallas. »

The Morning News has an absolutely brilliant article this week, The Non-Expert: Accents, [alternate 125kb pdf] where advice is given on how to cultivate a fake accent when travelling abroad where 90% of the world hates Americans. Some of the descriptions are spot-on and hilarious, especially the Maine accent.

A bit of handy advice for those wishing to be cultural chameleons when leaving the land of 50 states is YOU DON'T NEED TO SHOUT. Four out of five cruise ship passengers visiting Helsinki this year were Americans and after a peaceful winter of not hearing any English out on the sidewalks I suddenly started hearing people like they were speaking through a megaphone. I mean, I never noticed that people talked so loudly when living in the US, but damn, I can hear Americans at least 3 blocks away and chart an evasive course. One of these days I'm even going to muster the cheek to yell "A LANGUAGE BARRIER IS NOT A HEARING IMPAIRMENT" when some Americans lean into me and ask me very loudly if I speak English. It's great sport messing with some of these people by using my Finnglish, especially when I can tell by their accent that they're from somewhere near where I grew up. :) Cheap entertainment.

I do go out of my way at times to make myself sound like I am anything but an American and it works reasonably well. It is very curious how much confusion an unusual accent will cause in people who are desperately trying to place you by your accent since you can see the wheels turning as they talk to you wondering where you could have gotten such a funky way of speaking. I thought I'd add a new accent to the list from the Morning News - Finnglish. :)

Accent: Finnglish***

Scenario: You find yourself in Helsinki and realise that the Finnish phrasebook you bought on Amazon doesn't seem to work at all as the shopkeepers just give you this blank stare or say "Mitä?" You want to get some reindeer kitsch for the family back home but don't have any idea what in the hell these people are saying to you.

Tips & Tricks: First and foremost rule is; don't smile. It's a dead giveaway that you're an American tourist if you smile. Lower the volume of your voice as this puts you at a tactical disadvantage when you can be heard several blocks away. Speak English very slowly with a slight pause between words as though you are considering every word while you stress the first syllable of each word. Be sure to lower the tone of your voice an octave and cultivate a monotone speech pattern. Think of Star Trek's Chekov's "Nuclear Wessles" except do not try to sound Russian. If they give you an odd look, just say how much you love to practice your English around all the American tourists. Drop out any and all of the idioms that you normally fill a conversation with and replace it with something bare and slightly awkward; i.e. Boy, that gulleywasher last night was a real humdinger of a turdfloater!" becomes "The storm, he was not usual last night." [100kb mp3] Confuse he and she randomly in sentences and choose prepositions that are incorrect for the phrase. Don't 'turn on' your TV, 'open' your TV. If you get asked something on the sidewalk, a simple nod and "joo" or "ei" usually suffices. Costume is a consideration, too, as one should not wear cowboy hats, t-shirts with "BUSH! 4 more years" emblazoned on them, anything with the stars and stripes or any other such giveaways.

Response: Skip the tourist market and go to Iittala. Buy a bunch of Moomin mugs and Teema dinnerware and have them mailed home. You've already been busted so just say as little as possible, pay, and leave. :) There's a reason why Mainers and Finns seem a lot alike.

*** Note: This is a parody and all meant in good fun, mostly at my own expense which you get for free as my friends just give me whisky and make fun of the way I talk. :)

permalink Ω 5 September 2004, Helsinki

My first hate email

« A light at the end of a narrow tunnel. »

I have finally received my very first hate mail from some undereducated conservative who declared that "Your a socialist idiot. Your site sucks." I'm positively tickled that one of the more erudite and articulate took the time to send me the very best, especially on a day when I really needed a good giggle. So here's a shout out to Benboul@aol.com. May it bring him all the offers for viagra and nude teen girls he can handle in a glorious shower of inbox capitalism. Also, I might point out for the Americans who don't seem to understand the definition of socialism that Finland isn't a socialist country nor is wanting a good education and affordable healthcare for all citizens socialist, not to mention it would be a better long-term investment than all the oil in Iraq. Well, at least if you aren't in the oil industry.

It does amuse me that somehow being a real moderate interested in what used to be traditional family values of educating children and proper medical care earns me the label of 'socialist'. It reminds me of a brilliant essay in the book, Going Nucular: Language, Politics, and Culture in Controversial Times, which I read recently that explores the new usage of labels from the McCarthy era. Since it's such a timely topic and the essay is so interesting, I'll quote heavily from it as it's a tightly written piece and encourage anyone who is interested in how words shape the news and views of readers everywhere to purchase a copy.

"Where the Left Commences."

[...]

Leftist was not a word to be used lightly, even by the right. In a 1954 editorial, the Wall Street Journal worried that McCarthy's "slam-bang denunciations of ... 'leftist' influence" were making him a "depreciating asset" to the Republican Party, with the quotation marks around "leftist" hold the word at arm's length.

By all linguistic rights, the leftist label should have disappeared from the lexicon as McCarthyism faded, and as labels like communistic, fellow traveler and Communist sympathizer (or comsymp for short) were going the way of the poodle skirt. But leftist lingered, shifting its reference to antiwar demonstrators. Only after the Vietnam War did the word begin to decline as an epithet, though it was still routinely used in foreign news reports.

Then, in the late 1990s, leftist underwent a sudden revival. The word is 50 percent more frequent in major newspapers and magazines now than it was five years ago, with almost all the increase a result of its use as a label for domestic groups and individuals. Apart from the odd reference to Angela Davis or the Spartacist League, leftist nowadays is almost never used for old-style radicals or Marxists. In fact it was the eclipse of the movement left and the fall of Communism that freed the word to serve as a phantom finger that the right could wave in the culture wars.

[...]

It's getting hard to tell leftists and liberals apart without an agenda. Hence the increasing popularity of liberal-leftist, which merges categories on the model of compounds like toaster-oven and owner-occupier. (Linguists call those compounds "dvandvas," a term invented by the Sanskrit grammarians.) Peggy Noonan has use the double-l word to describe abortion-rights groups, and during Hillary Rodham Clinton's Senate race, the conservative commentator John Podhoretz described her as "running as an unapologetic liberal-leftist."

But liberal Democrats never describe themselves as leftists, not even apologetically. (For that matter, there are many who are willing to describe themselves as liberals, either.) That's the fundamental asymmetry of the left-right distinction in American politics. Historically, the left commences where liberalism ends. But conservatives have never demurred from placing themselves on the right, letting qualifiers like mainstream and extremist do the work of sorting out the bow-tied Alsopians from the fatigues-wearing abolish-the-I.R.S. crowd. True, many conservatives are uneasy about the label right wing, and though a few call themselves rightists, the world sounds too exotic for most to put it on their business cards. But no one feels the need for a compound like conservative-rightist - there's no distinction to blur in the first place.

The new uses of leftist exploit that asymmetry. They're aimed at nudging the political center to the right, by portraying social liberals as radicals outside the mainstream. That's a risky semantic maneuver. In any tug of war between a label and the things it's attached to, the label ultimately loses. Sometimes it's simply diluted to the point of meaninglessness. That happened with the fascist label after the American left began to throw it around indiscriminately in the 1970s, and it may very well be the fate of imperialist now. But the leftist label is less likely to be superannuated than drawn back into the center. Describing the Girl Scouts or Arlen Specter as leftist doesn't demonize them so much as make the epithet itself sound less alarming.

[...]

It is very curious how leftist and socialist have experienced a renaissance in the past five years which would suggest it began around the time of Dumbya's presidential campaign. It really is as though we've entered a new age of McCarthyism. The use of compounds to try and fill a gap in the lexicon is also rather pernicious since you'd normaly expect such bunching of words from children taunting each other on the playground, not political commentators who can't decide if someone is one thing or another so they just shove two words together with a hyphen thinking they're accurate but wind up making both meaningless and less insulting. Yow! Have I strayed from the flock, the mainstream, and joined such radicals as the Girl Scouts and their communist cookie campaigns?! If you aren't a bible thumping fundy freak who agrees with everything the president says you must be some sort of extremist freak who hates freedom and America!

It's hard to say what label actually describes my political leanings as I don't know that leftist, liberal, socialist or democrat are very accurate or meaningful. Perhaps this year there needs to be a new label just for the folks like me who tend to vote on the issues rather than the personalities and war records of the candidates, and who feel like something is terribly wrong that Dumbya and the entire cabinet haven't been impeached for lying and even admitting that they lied to get the US to go to war. How about right-left-moderate-cynics?

permalink Ω 3 September 2004, Helsinki

Taking the Y out of Wireless

« If God has gotten into the petroleum industry, it sure would explain a lot with current world news, now wouldn't it? No one seems to know what this place is as it's always deserted on the inside. »

Another perl person became the father of a daughter in the past few days [congratulations Ken :)] and this is another interesting and corroborating datapoint for a theory I have that I would like to see given some real research. My theory is this:

Men who use Apple iBooks/Powerbooks with wireless cards have a very high probability [>85%] of having female offspring that is far greater than the statistical average.

For the Americans who slept through basic biology classes in grade school, I should explain that the sperm determines the sex/gender, not the mother via excretions of hormones, nor are all embryos female at conception since as far as the genetics are concerned you are either XX or XY at the moment of fertilisation. I started half-jokingly suggesting this idea when a few perl guys had female babies but the trend has continued to the point where there may be something to it. One perl guy who uses an iBook without wireless has a male baby. One guy had a baby boy before he started using a wireless iBook and afterwards he had a baby girl. Coincidence? I'm really beginning to believe that it isn't.

Perhaps it's some sort of karma or divine revenge to give computer geeks who aren't entirely aware of what jerks, intentional or not, they are towards women, but science can't empirically prove that. It is entirely possible that the Y sperm are weaker [typically they are and this is partially why all the woman's eggs are X's, at least this was the theory back in the dark ages when I was in university] and more susceptible to the wireless card radiation which, when the laptop is on the lap, is sitting directly above the family jewels. Bullshit or an emerging pattern of plausible causation? Or maybe a secret conspiracy by women's organisations to breed more women? :) It would be a fascinating clinical study if a few medical people decided to take the theory and try to prove it right or wrong. I, of course, will continue to be very entertained by the baby girls ganging up on perl guys. :)

permalink Ω 1 September 2004, Helsinki