Some longer Twittering

I recognize that the John Edwards perspective is one of gloom, and could be one of the lines of thought that enabled the US tendency for apocalyptic anticipation (millenariansm). My comment was more of a snarky rebuttal rather than a measured response, as I feel that kind of gloom doesn't necessarily deserve much more (at least if I'm not in a giving mood).

Norway has a few fiery Protestants, but we mostly exported them over to the US back in the 1800s / early 1900s. Significant parts of US Evangelical Christianity owe something to Norwegian Evangelism. We've had the benefit of a mollifying state church, one that took part in the bid for democratization and independence (the delegates for our 1814 constitutional congress were determined at a church parish level).

Our state church remains Norwegian Evangelical Lutheranism.

Rudy Giuliani on Piers Morgan Tonight

I'm watching Pier Morgan's interview with former New York City mayor Rudy Giuliani and am having flashbacks to how uninspiring Rudy was back in 2007-08.

He reminds me of those automated baseball / tennisball throwers, shooting out soundbytes with a regular interval. While this is sufficient for some voters, I know it isn't sufficient for what I want from a president and I doubt it's sufficient to get the partisan fire burning among the voters he wants to court.

Rudy also fails to offer any kind of vision of where he wants to take the US. What goals does he have for the country?

Rudy claims that we've been victorious in Iraq? What victory? His hypothetical claims of belief regarding Iraq's alleged stockpiling of nuclear weaponry/materials are ludicrous.

I am merely mortal and I have reached my limit. Off the TV goes.

I left that for this?

In 2006, I moved from Miami back to Norway. In a nutshell, I left this:


Crandon Beach, Key Biscayne, 28th of February, 2003

for this:


Hellvik Beach, Nesodden, 24th of January, 2011

Creative writing practice 24th of January

Been skimming through jobs to apply for and felt like doing some creative writing. Here's the result (yes, yes, it is in need of editing):


It was a warm early summer's day. Sunlight streamed through the treetops, onto freshly moistened soil and plants. Birds sang and fluttered among the trees with the enthusiasm they often have after a storm. The air was crisp with the smell of wet dirt.

Of course, none of this mattered to Ben Lindeman as he gripped onto the knife stuck in his stomach. Dying is a distracting enterprise and one has rarely has the inclination nor the time to appreciate the bluebells below when one's blood pours out on them. Indeed, it was so distracting that he didn't even bother to get upset about his now torn and bloodied dress shirt.

Shock, pain, and a little bit of relief (for imminent death is nothing if not fatalistically relieving) prevented Ben's hands from removing the knife. It stung his innards even more as he dropped down to his knees, his hands jerking it slightly due to his less-than-graceful collapse. Seconds after (though they seemed like minutes to Ben's scrambling mind, as he reviewed the highlights of his life and found them...wanting) he fell forward, crushing the blood-soaked bluebells and a patch of buttercups.