Under et relativt tilbakeholdent seminar i dag hvor ingen egentlig ville være til stede og prate om saker i verdens utviklingen, Issues in World Development, kom vi inn på temaet hvor mye staten skal gripe inn, og om den skulle væra med på å fostre eller fremme økonomisk utvikling. Seminarlederen stilte da spørsmålet om hvorfor staten skulle gå inn å reguere markedet og stabilisere økonomien i et land med problemer.
- Stillhet.
Så utbryter amerikaneren i bakerste hjørne.
- Er ikke det kommunisme?
Godt med reflekterte utspill. Tar å sender mannen over til Per Sandberg omgående.
onsdag 1. oktober 2008
tirsdag 30. september 2008
Korrespondanse fra RTE 3s kveldssending.
Sesongavslutning på Tudors sesong 2. UCD har plutselig bestemt seg for å ha 4 essays inn på 2 uker, samtidig som den russiske feminismen på 20-tallet tolket av Trotsky, Kollonkai og Brovkin ikke blir mer interessant å lese når alternativet er å finne ut hvem som har minst feil i antakelsen om hvorfor Afrika går fra vondt til verre i den økonomiske utviklingen. Derfor avkobling med en serie en ikke er 100 % sikker på at en egentlig vil se for egen film/fjernsynshelses skyld.
Var veldig nedfor da jeg reiste fra Norge rett etter at sesong en av den, riktig nok alt for amerikaniserte, men dog godt påkostete Tudor-serien, var over. Så lander jeg i Dublin, og der er det reprise på første episode av sesong 2 med påfølgende episode på RTE3. Positiv overraskelse, for tross alt så er det langt mellom hver TV-serie jeg faktisk følger med på, og serier har jo en egen sjarme over seg. Husker tilbake til den tiden jeg alltid lagde en stor kopp te før Rex eller Mordene ved Månesjøen. Husker til og med såpass langt tilbake at jeg fulgte med på de siste episodene med Derrick. Etter å ha kontrollert med Imdb ser jeg at det bare er 10 år siden, men fremdeles, jeg har en historie med å følge noen få utvalgte serier, riktig nok med varierende kvaliteter, men dog. Dessverre har det blitt få serier de siste årene, så Tudors har egentlig kommet som et kjærlig avbrekk, merkelig nok som en av de første siden..eh...Henry VIII (med Ray Winstone som Henry), og..hm… kommer egentlig ikke på noen andre serier jeg har fulgt med på noen år.
Dessverre sitter jeg nå igjen med et veldig, veldig ambivalent forhold til Tudors. På en side er serien rent utseendemessig vakker, karakterene har en uvant dybde og skuespillerne er det heller ingenting å si på. Nick Dunning, i en brilleand tolkning av Anne Boleyns far; Thomas, er vel den skuespilleren, ved siden av Nathalie Dormer (Anne Boleyn), Peter O’Toole (Pave Paul III) og James Frain som Thomas Cromwell som har satt mest markante spor. Også er det Jonathan Ryhs Myers da. En av veldig få skuespillere jeg virkelig avskyr. Mannen er tvers igjennom motbydelig. Dessuten tolker han Henry VIII på en måte som får meg til å hate han enda mer. Kongen som hadde alt, begjærte, elsket, og likevel skapte en episk tragedie for de han elsket (uten om Anne of Cleves), gjorde Irland engelsk og ga oss en makaber legende, om ikke annet. Rhys Meyers klarer å få fram alt dette; han er gal, eksentrisk, diplomaten, geniet, elskeren og rundbrenneren. Det som plager meg er at jeg ikke klarer å like serien til det fulle. Jeg forguder tidsalderen, det er med et drøss av irske skuespillere, det er en påkostet og detaljriktig produksjon og i tillegg har en alt det historiske rundt hele settingen: poenget er, jeg skulle forgude Tudors, enda så hadde jeg store problemer med å se den siste episoden, og den nest siste var faktisk enda verre. Ikke bare er det på grensen til det smakløst groteske, som på en måte passer veldig godt til hele settingen, det er også på grensen til det pinelig pompøse. Når en da i tillegg får dette blandet i samme scene grenser det på den ene siden til noe brutalt vakkert, til noe på den andre siden som heller gir flash back til Harrison’s Flowers, Der Untergang og In the Name of My Father. Dog, som det står i den store svarte boka; den du elsker tukter du, og det er vel noe slikt forhold jeg har fått til Tudors.
Bare, uansett hvor godt opp mot perioden det hele passer; er det nødvendig å vise henrettelser hvor bøddelen må hugge fire ganger mens en fontene av blod spruter utover en jublende folkemasse mens det hodeløse liket ligger igjen spreller? Eller henrettelsen av Anne Boleyn; hvorfor klippe mellom hodet til Nathalie Dormer og den lille jenta som løper rundt og ler i en hage og hopper opp i Nick Dunnings armer, og akkurat i det hodet hennes flyr gjennom luften og sakte glir over til og passe den lille jentas ansikt? Jeg skal ikke si hvilken savnede britisk jentunge barnet ligna på, men kirkekoret som var i bakgrunnen med ravnene som tok av fra Tower Green var da rørende vakkert..litt som Era, egentlig. Ellers er det ikke veldig mye vondt jeg har å si, foruten at HBO kunne ha spart seg for de lesbiske antydingene som hang over samtlige kvinnelige deltakere i serien, uten om Maria Doyle Kennedy, men går ut fra at de irske skuespillerne kunne reservere seg mot å få et slikt rykte hengende over seg her hjemme.
Ellers var det faktisk morbid nok forfriskende å se noen andre enn Nathalie Portman bli torturert i en 1500-talls setting! Hvem vet hva slags fetisj dama har, men nå har jeg gått lei av at dama stadig dukker opp i settinger som er lite fordelaktige for folkehelsa, og som bare gir kunder til Dixi mottakene.
Nok morbide tolkninger, og tilbake til Tudors. Hvilke terningkast skal jeg gi denne kvasireligiøse, myk pornografiske, torturelskende, forførende, melankolsk-poetiske kostymedrama? Det som teller positivt er at serien tross alt, sammenliknet med en del andre produksjoner av liknende art, er relativt nære til historien på svært mange måter, og tolkningene og scenografien går såpass overbevisende med hverandre at det er en nytelse, ja, forførende å iaktta. Jeg har nevnt skuespillerne, de gjør en strålende jobb, kort og godt, så det som er positivt er veldig positivt. Derimot, det er en del ting jeg synes trekker helheten ned: Sex. Ja, akkurat, sex. Det starta i sesong 1, og har fortsatt til slutten; og serien har blitt kritisert for det over i England også, at den klarer å dra inn kjønnslige aktiviteter inn i de mest merkelige situasjoner i beste stil al la College komediene. Jeg sier ikke at det her helt feil, tvert i mot, for all del, men det er grenser for mange, og lange, scener som skal utspille seg på det Kongelige soverom, den konglige marienes flaggskip, Windsor gardens og kjellere, før en kan begynne å lure på om de ønsker å fylle opp episodene (og selge) i stedet for å fortelle historien på en litt mer sofistikert verbal måte, og at de kan mistenkes for å tvile på egne kvaliteter. Bare så det er sagt, selvsagt, angående Henry tviler jeg ikke et sekund på at hadde en intimklausul i ansettelseskontrakten ovenfor slottets personale, jeg mener, om den totale makt korrupterer sinnet, tenkt på den totale forførelsen den gir mulighet for. *Host* Videre. Tudors er voldelig, og finnes ikke redd for å vise den totale menneskelige dødsangst, eller detaljerte skildringer av dette. Jeg går god for at det passer perioden, at det forteller historien, men igjen, hvor mye er nok? Den er mye verre enn the Patriot, men samtidig bare komedien i forhold til Bloody Sunday. Men, også som nevnt, Tudors er forførende. Poesien til Thomas Wyatt (mener det var han) i kjølig gotikk, klærne, og hvor mye enn jeg hater Rhys Meyers, hvor vonde mange av scenene er, en vil innerst inne bare rømme inn i skjermen og spille med, med de fordeler og ulemper det ville medføre, men verdt risikoen; absolutt!
TERNINGKAST: 5.
Var veldig nedfor da jeg reiste fra Norge rett etter at sesong en av den, riktig nok alt for amerikaniserte, men dog godt påkostete Tudor-serien, var over. Så lander jeg i Dublin, og der er det reprise på første episode av sesong 2 med påfølgende episode på RTE3. Positiv overraskelse, for tross alt så er det langt mellom hver TV-serie jeg faktisk følger med på, og serier har jo en egen sjarme over seg. Husker tilbake til den tiden jeg alltid lagde en stor kopp te før Rex eller Mordene ved Månesjøen. Husker til og med såpass langt tilbake at jeg fulgte med på de siste episodene med Derrick. Etter å ha kontrollert med Imdb ser jeg at det bare er 10 år siden, men fremdeles, jeg har en historie med å følge noen få utvalgte serier, riktig nok med varierende kvaliteter, men dog. Dessverre har det blitt få serier de siste årene, så Tudors har egentlig kommet som et kjærlig avbrekk, merkelig nok som en av de første siden..eh...Henry VIII (med Ray Winstone som Henry), og..hm… kommer egentlig ikke på noen andre serier jeg har fulgt med på noen år.
Dessverre sitter jeg nå igjen med et veldig, veldig ambivalent forhold til Tudors. På en side er serien rent utseendemessig vakker, karakterene har en uvant dybde og skuespillerne er det heller ingenting å si på. Nick Dunning, i en brilleand tolkning av Anne Boleyns far; Thomas, er vel den skuespilleren, ved siden av Nathalie Dormer (Anne Boleyn), Peter O’Toole (Pave Paul III) og James Frain som Thomas Cromwell som har satt mest markante spor. Også er det Jonathan Ryhs Myers da. En av veldig få skuespillere jeg virkelig avskyr. Mannen er tvers igjennom motbydelig. Dessuten tolker han Henry VIII på en måte som får meg til å hate han enda mer. Kongen som hadde alt, begjærte, elsket, og likevel skapte en episk tragedie for de han elsket (uten om Anne of Cleves), gjorde Irland engelsk og ga oss en makaber legende, om ikke annet. Rhys Meyers klarer å få fram alt dette; han er gal, eksentrisk, diplomaten, geniet, elskeren og rundbrenneren. Det som plager meg er at jeg ikke klarer å like serien til det fulle. Jeg forguder tidsalderen, det er med et drøss av irske skuespillere, det er en påkostet og detaljriktig produksjon og i tillegg har en alt det historiske rundt hele settingen: poenget er, jeg skulle forgude Tudors, enda så hadde jeg store problemer med å se den siste episoden, og den nest siste var faktisk enda verre. Ikke bare er det på grensen til det smakløst groteske, som på en måte passer veldig godt til hele settingen, det er også på grensen til det pinelig pompøse. Når en da i tillegg får dette blandet i samme scene grenser det på den ene siden til noe brutalt vakkert, til noe på den andre siden som heller gir flash back til Harrison’s Flowers, Der Untergang og In the Name of My Father. Dog, som det står i den store svarte boka; den du elsker tukter du, og det er vel noe slikt forhold jeg har fått til Tudors.
Bare, uansett hvor godt opp mot perioden det hele passer; er det nødvendig å vise henrettelser hvor bøddelen må hugge fire ganger mens en fontene av blod spruter utover en jublende folkemasse mens det hodeløse liket ligger igjen spreller? Eller henrettelsen av Anne Boleyn; hvorfor klippe mellom hodet til Nathalie Dormer og den lille jenta som løper rundt og ler i en hage og hopper opp i Nick Dunnings armer, og akkurat i det hodet hennes flyr gjennom luften og sakte glir over til og passe den lille jentas ansikt? Jeg skal ikke si hvilken savnede britisk jentunge barnet ligna på, men kirkekoret som var i bakgrunnen med ravnene som tok av fra Tower Green var da rørende vakkert..litt som Era, egentlig. Ellers er det ikke veldig mye vondt jeg har å si, foruten at HBO kunne ha spart seg for de lesbiske antydingene som hang over samtlige kvinnelige deltakere i serien, uten om Maria Doyle Kennedy, men går ut fra at de irske skuespillerne kunne reservere seg mot å få et slikt rykte hengende over seg her hjemme.
Ellers var det faktisk morbid nok forfriskende å se noen andre enn Nathalie Portman bli torturert i en 1500-talls setting! Hvem vet hva slags fetisj dama har, men nå har jeg gått lei av at dama stadig dukker opp i settinger som er lite fordelaktige for folkehelsa, og som bare gir kunder til Dixi mottakene.
Nok morbide tolkninger, og tilbake til Tudors. Hvilke terningkast skal jeg gi denne kvasireligiøse, myk pornografiske, torturelskende, forførende, melankolsk-poetiske kostymedrama? Det som teller positivt er at serien tross alt, sammenliknet med en del andre produksjoner av liknende art, er relativt nære til historien på svært mange måter, og tolkningene og scenografien går såpass overbevisende med hverandre at det er en nytelse, ja, forførende å iaktta. Jeg har nevnt skuespillerne, de gjør en strålende jobb, kort og godt, så det som er positivt er veldig positivt. Derimot, det er en del ting jeg synes trekker helheten ned: Sex. Ja, akkurat, sex. Det starta i sesong 1, og har fortsatt til slutten; og serien har blitt kritisert for det over i England også, at den klarer å dra inn kjønnslige aktiviteter inn i de mest merkelige situasjoner i beste stil al la College komediene. Jeg sier ikke at det her helt feil, tvert i mot, for all del, men det er grenser for mange, og lange, scener som skal utspille seg på det Kongelige soverom, den konglige marienes flaggskip, Windsor gardens og kjellere, før en kan begynne å lure på om de ønsker å fylle opp episodene (og selge) i stedet for å fortelle historien på en litt mer sofistikert verbal måte, og at de kan mistenkes for å tvile på egne kvaliteter. Bare så det er sagt, selvsagt, angående Henry tviler jeg ikke et sekund på at hadde en intimklausul i ansettelseskontrakten ovenfor slottets personale, jeg mener, om den totale makt korrupterer sinnet, tenkt på den totale forførelsen den gir mulighet for. *Host* Videre. Tudors er voldelig, og finnes ikke redd for å vise den totale menneskelige dødsangst, eller detaljerte skildringer av dette. Jeg går god for at det passer perioden, at det forteller historien, men igjen, hvor mye er nok? Den er mye verre enn the Patriot, men samtidig bare komedien i forhold til Bloody Sunday. Men, også som nevnt, Tudors er forførende. Poesien til Thomas Wyatt (mener det var han) i kjølig gotikk, klærne, og hvor mye enn jeg hater Rhys Meyers, hvor vonde mange av scenene er, en vil innerst inne bare rømme inn i skjermen og spille med, med de fordeler og ulemper det ville medføre, men verdt risikoen; absolutt!
TERNINGKAST: 5.
søndag 28. september 2008
God Save Ireland, and up the 'RA
I'm a sinner and I did know what I whent to; The Wolfe Tones, Guinness, some 300 drunk Irish and lyrics whos content are in the best controversal. In worst political tastless. In reality entertaining, magic and, indeed, Irish. In short: I had my expectation, I had my thoughts about the Wolfe Tones; I thought of two hours of traditional folk songs, and perhaps one or two rebell songs like James Connolly, They Wounded Old Ireland or The Town I Loved so Well, songs whos content are rather sad, dreaming, honoring the lost and gone, praying for better days to come...a silent accept of a country's fate. But, this didn't happen, and indeed, I do not regret that I drop the Pub crawl that night to spend the night "alone" at the student pub with this band. Visiting 4 pubs in one night will I have the posibility for later, to be 10 meters from a man, a voice, I for long time did think of as gone: one posibility, one night, once in a life time. My very first 100% Irish evening who I hoped would atleast give me a broader perspective of irish music, and the Irish themself. That the evening in its very nature should go in a revolutionary direction quite litterary I had no idea. As I arrive the place the concert were to be i soon understand what were about to happen: peopel showed up wraped in the Tricolor, in Green, in 1916 shirts wearing the national jersies and tricolor scarf. Luckly I came in touch with two german girls who's in my Buddy group, and as we stood in front of the scene with each our Guinness (and Bulmer) the room slowly was filled up and the atmospher grow more and more extatic, proud. And then did Derek Warfield, wearing a black cowboy hat and a gitar in the one hand and a pint of Foster's in the other enter the stage applauded by attendence and musicians. Without a word he smiles, greets us and as the most natural thing he starts singing "God save Ireland", as a way of presenting himself, and in seconds the entire room sings along. Between the songs Warfield held smal speaches, partly historical, partly political, fully honest, but not aggresiv, rather patriotic.
After setting the mood with a long speach of the Irish history, about the English invations, famines, the rebellions and the imergeing of the IRA in the year after the Easter Rising, he took a sipp of his beer, turned back towards us asking; Have any of ye seen any Black 'n Tans around Belfield lately? No? We all know the reason for that? And the room explodes in a unison, proud cheer "The IRA made them run like Hell away!". In nearly all cases I would have experienced this as a threatning mob, I do have some problems with the mix of Nationalism and violence, but still...the mood of the people. It wan't hate, more a triumphfull celebration of a historical reason, like a less militant verson of the Organge March up in the North. And, "Come out ye Black and Tans" are a quite jolly song about a man running out in the Streets after the pubs have closed and begging "the Tans" to fight him like a man, like they (the English) did in Africa and India. The Black and Tans was followed with some "calm" ballads "In the Streets of New York" and some other whos name I can't remember. Now did a new speach follow, about the Irish recistance, and I quote:
All other nations in Europe have memorialized their
heros and patriots with huge monuments in stone and the name of their heros at wonderfull buildings, but we never do that. In Ireland, boys and girls, we have music. The monuments is in our songs and our monuments are in our patriotic ballads, and we should never ever appolgize to anybody for the content of our patriotic songs.
Then he song "Boys of the Old Brigade" and without waiting for the by now ecstatic crowd to calm he went straight on to "Men behind the Wire", one of my favorite rebel songs, and the fact that you suddenly have gone from being a lonely…um...rebel to stand in the middle of a ad hoc band of brothers and sisters where no one judge you for knowing such lyrics…I may call it pure pleasure. And, from there I was lost, lost in a situation I only few weeks saw as a part of the history. I have always, after I start listening to rebel songs, wanted to attend a republican concert, but saw this as a thing that only could happen if someone invented a time machine and transported me back to Derry, Enniskillen, Omagh or some parts of Belfast in the early 80s, and you did cheer the IRA because it likely was their snipers at the roof tops around who hold the RUC away so the concert could happen. But, this was Dublin, in peace time, after both IRA and RUC left the stage of existence, more precisely; some 10 minutes walk from my address and I was suddenly a part of the crowd.
As the tones from the song ended the room keep on cheering “Oh ah Up the ‘RA, say Oh ah the ‘RA (this acronym is an easy one) until the banjo player took one of the most spectacular solos I ever heard, he was the Devil, the Master himself. An quite needed pause. People were dancing, throwing their beer and waving their shoes, and the “Up the RA”-cheer were soon to be a permanent part of my inner voice, and Derek Warfield didn’t make it easier with his frequent returns to this cheer, and to be honest, I do not complain. Exchange studies are for broadening the cultural perspectives, and if that mean cheering the martyrs from the 1981 Hunger Strike and the republican prisoners and they who fight the Brits during the Troubles; so be it.
It’s much I could say about the rest of the concert, but in fact I think I will skip to the last part, after the Foggy Dew, perhaps my absolute favourite rebel song, depending of who’s singing, had been song in a quite moving way. Especially the honouring of the leaders who were executed in the aftermath of the 1916 Rising. I think it was at this time I first understood that I till then maybe had underestimated the Irish, that some part of their history are indeed more important for them than it would be for us. For example; who did lead the Norwegian soldiers during the war against Sweden in 1814? Who were the ministers in Christian Michelsen’s government? Who were in the War Cabinet in London? The Volunteering Rifle Association? The crowd where now blissfully just shouting “IRA, IRA, IRA” and the bar was, to many peoples agony, closed. BTW; isn’t that a kind of... unfavourable: Some 300 IRA sympathizers and a bar that closes, or evens worse; 300 THISTY IRA sympathizers and a closing bar? Well, the building still stand, hence I guess nobody refused to budge. Out of this chaotic environment the concert reach it zenith as Derek Warfield grabbed his own guitar again after “just” doing the characteristic vocals during the previous songs, and as he stroke the chords he regain the control of the room an lead the choir into “A Nation once Again” and finally, the Soldier Song, the national anthem, as the evening hadn’t been Green (White and Orange) earlier, and were indeed a huge contrast compared with the rather international environment UCD like to identified them self as in the brochures. But then again, I don’t have any plans of being international; I’m in Ireland to open to the Irish, and not to the entire Union or the term “International”. Meeting other, absolutely, but the cultural approach is emerald green.
God's curse on you England,
you cruel hearted monster.
Thy deeds they will shame
all the Devils in Hell.
Conclusion: It was craic, a grand evening, absolutely...I have no words to explain how great it was. After all, how often do a norwegian (in theory lutheran despite personal atheism) have the possibilities to walk the way back home singing “Ah oh Up the ‘RA” and smile?
- Dublin. Out.
torsdag 25. september 2008
To understand the PR-STV system.
This title is sarcastic: nobody do know the fully deepth of the Irish election system, the Single Transferable Vote system, preference vote if you like. During today's lecture about thise subject, originally we should have a introduction to Irish voting behaviour, but that did't happen. Our lecturer had just explaied how the surplus of the votes for a Labour representative, who would be the representative voted in as the second preference for voters in North Kildare, that a rather cartoonic person in the front row asks a question. "Why did't the Green Party get eliminated during the first count, since their number of the share of Finna Fail's surplus votes was smaler than the difference between them and the Fine Gael representative?". Damn he's right, and by then it seems that we had discovered a major failur in the Dail election, and our lecturer, a old professor who rather hands out sheets for the lecture rather faceing the chalenge of the cyber space, suddenly have a explanation problem. Why did't the Green Party's candadate get eliminated and here voters second preferences recounted and shared in propotional portions to the other candidates? Therefor, suddenly, were everything this old professor had teached us about "first share surplus, then eliminate if the votes can't change the weakest candidates position" during a quite theoretical and mathematical lecture waisted..or atleast, or even more likely, more confusing than it was in the beginning. I'm a nerd when it get's to electorial systems, so inside my mind I vere already constructing arguments promoting the STV system in Norway. But this situation, when one of the highest skilled academics in his field in Ireland, one of only two countries who use this complex and propotionaly sophisticated method of electing our representatives, and who, with all respect, should be one of few who realy know the system from ballot to Dail misses, and then with large doubts have to take chances around the first, and the most important, count in the system: who knows? Confronted with this and the fact that I have problems to imagine every single local electorial Officials around in Norway been able to control this, and that did effectivly crush my hope for a major change in the electorial system back hope. Should realy wish to be the fly at the wall when the 60 year old Official in Vestre Slidre just after sending the result to Oslo suddenly discover that they have elimiated the wrong candidate, and then, over a slightly tranished cellphone conection try to explain this to the Election Comittee and the other Officials. Nope...we better stay to Propotional Representation following the St. Langue with 1.3 as a divider.
onsdag 24. september 2008
A premier with reason to be worried?
To be honoest, I did't go to Dublin because of the city's Cinematic facilities. But, after nearly 5 weeks here I have learned that they are indeed doing quite good when it gets to cinemas. One of very few plans, concerning movies, I had when I ended up here was to atleast watch "Outlander", Sophia Myles's latest movie, no interests in Batman, the Duchess or anyother blockbusters, but just in a semi-epic sci-fi movie about a struggle between Vikings and aliens; defently. Since the movie have a budget of a certain amount, and a lot, or some, well known actors (Myles, James Caviezel, Ron Pearlman and John Hurt) I did hope for a early premier in Europe. Since UK isn't that fare from here i lived in the faith that when the movie was announced to have its premier i august, that it would find the way across the sea and end up in Dublin in september/october. I will now give the entire premier list:
France; May 08
Latvia; July 08
Switzerland/Germany; August 08
Russia/Poland; September 08
Lithuania/Turkey; October 08
USA (DVD)/India; November 08
UK February 09
The Netherlands April 09
I'm a bit..dissatisfied. Not much, just a bit. But someone, please, Vikings...and not a single Scandinavia country, and what about Ireland! UK are less then two hours from here with a regular train! If they first are going to ship it to the North...they are selling a movie to the cinemas in Belfast but do not bother to send it fouther? Theres something like 5 times the population here! THEY DO BOTHER SENDING ANYTHING AT ALL TO BELFAST AND NOTHING TO DUBLIN! TO BELFAST?? As I sad, i'm a bit dissepointed. But, in another way; what kind of quality do that movie have, or, what kind of ambitions? It seems like the distribution it's a bit...limited. European countries isn't that different in tast and preferences when it gets to movies, and for Norway; we do show way too many american movies compare to other nationalities, but still; how many other movies have been released in both UK an Germany and not Norway? We did get Tristan and Isolde, Hallam Foe and Art School Confidential? We did get way too many Ron Pearlman-movies, and Pathfinder, who's nearly simular. Why not Outlander? Is it soo pathetic that we rather than missing something are getting saved from something embarresing? Why is the premier, of all the places in the world, i Latvia? Seems like I'll get a weekend in Aberdeen in February.
France; May 08
Latvia; July 08
Switzerland/Germany; August 08
Russia/Poland; September 08
Lithuania/Turkey; October 08
USA (DVD)/India; November 08
UK February 09
The Netherlands April 09
I'm a bit..dissatisfied. Not much, just a bit. But someone, please, Vikings...and not a single Scandinavia country, and what about Ireland! UK are less then two hours from here with a regular train! If they first are going to ship it to the North...they are selling a movie to the cinemas in Belfast but do not bother to send it fouther? Theres something like 5 times the population here! THEY DO BOTHER SENDING ANYTHING AT ALL TO BELFAST AND NOTHING TO DUBLIN! TO BELFAST?? As I sad, i'm a bit dissepointed. But, in another way; what kind of quality do that movie have, or, what kind of ambitions? It seems like the distribution it's a bit...limited. European countries isn't that different in tast and preferences when it gets to movies, and for Norway; we do show way too many american movies compare to other nationalities, but still; how many other movies have been released in both UK an Germany and not Norway? We did get Tristan and Isolde, Hallam Foe and Art School Confidential? We did get way too many Ron Pearlman-movies, and Pathfinder, who's nearly simular. Why not Outlander? Is it soo pathetic that we rather than missing something are getting saved from something embarresing? Why is the premier, of all the places in the world, i Latvia? Seems like I'll get a weekend in Aberdeen in February.
tirsdag 23. september 2008
G for Guinness
Da det nå viser seg komplett umulig å gjenngi de siste dagers hendelser over et eneste innlegg ser jeg det som nødvendig at heller dele det opp å fordele det over flere korrespondansebrev i beste NRK stil, hvor annet hvert brev åpnes med "Da jeg for litt siden ............. sammen med ............. slo det meg at ............. ikke er helt som hjemme" Derfor vil størsteparten av mine opplevelser i Dublins gater søndag 21 september bli spart til senere og jeg hopper frem til da jeg i en tilnærmet sakral æresfrykt entret portene på St. James's Gate Brewery. For den lærde betyr det det samme som Guinness.
Hva som skjedde inne på bryggeriet i seg selv er i all hovedsak ikke veldig nyskapende sett med turistiske øyne; utstillingene var absolutt påkostede, det var ikke spart på noe når det gjalt å gjennomføre enten det var tønnebygging eller monitorer med database over samtlige reklamefilmer som har gått de senere 60 år, hvor flertallet faktisk var knakende festlige. Filmklippene fra 20-tallets Dublin med kommentarer var egentlig bare med på å gi oppholdet de tradisjonelle irske rammene som en bokstavelig talt smaker på vei nedover i glasset; regnet mot brosteinen, six penceluer, hestekjerrene langs Liffey, slitte victorianske bygg med vinduene åpne med klesvasken hengendes ut over gata hvor folk haster over og inn i de små sidegatene rundt Tempel Bar, Smithfield og Connolly Station. Klokkene i Christ Church og St Patrick's, trikken langs O'Connell Street og toget som bremser opp over Liffey og forsvinner bak Custom House. Slitte tremøbler, røyken som henger over rommet fra bardisken og som slår mot deg i det du kommer inn døra og blir møtt med et nikk fra bartenderen. Glassene som slår mot hverandre, Bacon and cabbage, Limericker Ham, Irish Stew og den søtlige duften fra ei flaske Bushmill's Black Bush som bokstavlig dufter opp av whiskeyglasset. Inntrykk nok til å gjøre en higen etter en pint kald, skummende Guinness, gjerne med en liten Shamrock i skummet. Det at en slik pint i bestefall bare kan nytes i hodet skal det innrømmes at en selvtappet Guinnes (m/utskrevet diplom)er heller ei å forakte. Det mest festlige utspilte seg faktisk i denne situasjonen mens vi stod der å tappet: ølkrana gikk tom, og siden det var seint på dagen var det ikke aktuelt å fylle på et fat for å toppe tre pint. Derfor ble jeg og de to andre guidet inn på bryggeriets offisielle bar og bartenderen ble forespørt om vi kunne få bruke krana der til å toppe, for hun (guiden) meinte at det bare var rett å rimelig at vi faktisk fikk fullføre det vi hadde begynt på, og betalt €11 for i inngangspenger. Bartenderen ville gjerne la oss slippe til og var helt sikker på at ingen av oss ville forvolde noe skade på Guinness Ltds eiendom, men kunne få problemer dersom det kom fram at ufaglærte hadde håndtert tappekranene. Derfor ble det ikke noe av det som i et gyldent minutt så ut til å bli møtet med noe som kunne utvikle seg til en myte; dagen da jeg styrte tappekrana på St. James's Gate Brewery. Ser for meg at det ville kunne stå som et meritt som ville ha gjort meg relativt udødlig og kandidat til statue på valgfri åpen plass og torg på Hadeland. Dette nesten personlige 7. juni ble dog kraftig veid opp da jeg returnerte til de andre i følget som satt tilbake i TV rommet. Her må det legges til at det var kamp om plassen. Søndag var også dagen for All-Ireland finalen i gælisk fotball mellom Kerry og Tyrone, hvilket er den største sportslige begivenheten i Irland. Og der satt jeg, i 7de etasje på bryggeriet med en Guinness sammen med 20 irer, et utall tyskere, en og annen belgier og noen andre ymse nasjonaliteter og så på GAA Finalen. Det må utvilsomt føres opp på lista over det mest irske jeg har gjort. Kort og godt. Da kampen var over, vi kom til 15 minutter før slutt, tok vi oss opp i panorama etasjen og så på utsikten over byen, som viste seg fra sitt definetive best; skyfri himmel, 20 grader og sol som kastet et disig slør over Wicklow Mouthens og Dublin Bay. Det var en lik stemning i restauranten som den en finner på ei høyfjellshytte innerst i Jotunheimen på tampen av sesongen når en sitter på trappa utenfor og ser sola forsvinne ned fra horisonten, balansere på en fjellkam noen minutter for så å gi solveggen over til en bitende kveldsbris. Forskjellen var, her var vi 70 meter over gatenivået, med irsk musikk i høytalerne, og terrenget rundt var, med unntak av de knappe 350meter høye Wicklow Mouthens flatt. Så flatt at vi hadde fritt utsyn nesten fra Swords til Dun Laoghaire, men roen, totalt anderledes enn den en finner noen meter under i Dame Street eller Grafton Street eller nede ved Heuston Station. Minneverdig, og t-skjorta fra gavebutikken stod da der og ropte på meg, så den måtte bare bli med.
For den som måtte interessere seg: Tyrone vant 1-15 mot Kerrys 0-14 etter mål 2 minutter før fulltid.
Five minutes to spare.
Just finish with my introduction course to the Irish political system, and during that lecture a quite interesting coinsidence appeared in front of me. We had just finished the talks about the 1916 revolution, the IRA campaign 1919-1921 and the Civil War in 1922-23, when our lecturer started teaching us about the Irish presidents authorities and "powers", and finaly that the post in decades were subordinated the English king (wich de Valera and his staff keep as a secret to the public) and that the title itself also made a lot of discution and did in fact create quite diffucult diplomatic issues. The Irish did in fact untill the Good Friday Agreement elect the President of Ireland, wich upset the British who saw that as a attempt to indicate that the president also was the president of the North, therefor they did only address the president in Dublin for "President of the Republic of Ireland". A story says that when Mary Robinson did go to London for the first time during here presidency to try to ease the diplomatic tentions between Ireland and the UK there were a hard to find a way to address here, since neighter of the parts did accept the other's titulation (Mary Robinson, president of Ireland vs Mary Robinson president of the Republic of Ireland),they ended up with a compromise; the Irish president. But, it's told that late during a official dinner, unkown location, it could have been 10 Downing St or Buckingham Palace, that the British Prime Minister John Major (Conservatives) told the rest of the attendings that he was pleased to dinner together with the president of Ireland. Quite embarrassing for Major, quite entertaining for the Irish.
Anyway; after the GFA some changes were made in the Irish constitution, and the country did in fact change name from Ireland to the Republic of Ireland. Wich may be shorted to RoI. Therefor, did UK finally get the Irish to accept a new Roi?
Anyway; after the GFA some changes were made in the Irish constitution, and the country did in fact change name from Ireland to the Republic of Ireland. Wich may be shorted to RoI. Therefor, did UK finally get the Irish to accept a new Roi?
fredag 19. september 2008
Rose McGowan and the IRA
I imagine, had I grown up in Belfast, I would 100 per cent have been in the IRA. My heart just broke for the cause. Violence is not to be played out daily and provide an answer to problems, but I understand it
Rose McGowan during the Toronto Film Festival. http://www.irishtimes.com/newspaper/ireland/2008/0919/1221773888185.html
When I first droped down by my computer to scribble down some words I had in my mind that I should give short comment over the UCD - Sligo Rover match at UCD Bowl, but then, in an attempt to act a bit more Irish, and a bit less Norwegian, I did choose to read some news in the Irish Times. I do not regret that. This is why I like Ireland; they do actually have something to debate, and the IRA do always bring forth strong feelings in both directions, and his time it's Rose "Kick Arse" McGowan who have been the smart mounth. (I have only seen her in Planet Terror, and Cherry in the IRA would have been...less fortunate for Her Majesty's Forces well being) My first tought after reading the article was; Do they critisise her because she, to a certain extent, may have right? Not to make a major issue of the Troubles, but rather look at the consept of violence, that sometimes it's the only way, tho the Western democracies mostly will reject that. With all respect for SDLP (Social Democratic and Labour Party)and their work for peace in the North, but, untill Sinn Féin was granted access to the Peace Process, what did they achive? From 1970 to the Good Friday Agreement, what did they achive? Gerry Adams did for some time ago say that "hadn't it been for the presens of the IRA had it been no peace process". Well, a peace process hadn't been necessary in the first place at all if it had been no IRA. But, then again, what kind of NI had it been without the Troubles, without a major reform in Stormont? Did the Civil Right marches help anything concerning that, and did they prove that the democratic way of solving dissagreements (open dialogue) work best? I think that at least 14 boys up in Derry who, if they still were alive, might slightly disagree. And just for the record, in the Science Building were the history of the UCD is at exhibiton, they're writing that such marches mostly ended in street fights with the RUC. Peace actions who ends in riots. Or, just to quote the character of James Nesbitt in the Bloody Sunday (2002)
I just want to say this to the British Government... You know what you've just done, don't you? You've destroyed the civil rights movement, and you've given the IRA the biggest victory it will ever have. All over this city tonight, young men... boys will be joining the IRA, and you will reap a whirlwind.
Sometimes the democracy deny its self, and rather to be the option, it leavs no options. Just a quote from a movie, but still, in the context of the chaotic situation in the North in the 70s and 80s, Thatcher the Iron Lady, Long Kesh, UVF, UDA, UDR, the ethnical cleaning in Belfast and Derry (both sides), the internment without trial and Operation Banner...or to bring it to Belfast as miss McGowan refered to; the Lower Falls Curfew. May it be a slightly possibility that miss Rose perhaps have a point? Ofcourse peopel suffered at both sides, a lot of innocents died. War is cruel, no sharp cut edges between heros and badguys, but if the soldiers who come to save the province from the terror ends up as a player instead of a referee in the conflict, that you're a "threat" to the society simply by having another political view(Republican/Nationalist instead of Loyalist/Unionist); that you run the risk of internment by to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Is it still expected that we shall relax, take a breath, and then walk stright over to the guy with the power and the gunn to say that we do dissagree on certain oppressious points of the policies of the ruling party/class etc? And, is it still expected that when the answer is "NO", that we should bow, and go back home and find a better argument? And finally, after doing that ad nauseam, are we still expected to continue and/or accept the terms?
Wouldn't we all, if the situation suddenly turned, and left us with the option of live in silent fear, to face the barb wire and the bullets if we raised our voice for the Cause, or to fight a war we maybe never will win, but at least we would fight for whatsoever we belive in, choose the last one? The problems would still be there, no dubt, but if the ears are deaf for the voice, it may sometimes listen to the Armalite. Not a personal rule, but rather logic, and that's perhaps one of the reasons why she gets critisized?
A bit long, quite heavy, but still; I felt that I had to write something about the article.
Something of importance
The Wolfe Tones will hold a concert at the Student Bar next thursday (25th)! They are still alive!
torsdag 18. september 2008
A fairly short, quite informative presentation of Me, and some more for they who want it.
Last night I had problems about to choose my opning of this blogg, and of all, in my search to find out what kind of stuff Google may choose to to with my newly created account, or rather, what they will do, I did forget the most logical start: a fairly short, and quite informative Introduction to Me. But first; mr Michael Chertoff, Secretary for Homeland Security, I'm not THAT dangerous, and Marianna Mikko, member of Committee on Culture and Education in the EU Parlament; I'm not too happy about you eighter!
Anyway; about me then:
There isn't much to tell before the hunting season 2004, despite a goald medal in javaline throw in a regional championship and a heroic preformance in triple jump the same year. During the 2004 hunt a way too brave middle sized blackcock with in critical needs of skills in camouflage took a flight 10 meters in front of the Undersigned's shotgun an did in that way create a lot of confusion. Left the dark forest of the Eastern Norway August 2006 after a long time sosiocultural grindlock between the ruling class of the village and the Undersigned. Entered a volunteery exile in Bergen, and did soon apply for residence permit on a permanent basis. This, however, footing in a genuine fear of reprisals from fundamentalistic citizens of the village and other Loyalist movements among next of kinds after the Undersigned was observed wearing a SK Brann scarf, enjoying a Gold Beer and openly singing "Nystemten" in Bergen, October 2007...among quite a number of locals. Breveheart opened Undersigned's eyes for the British Isles in an early age, and a adoration for red hair and whiskey did result in a number of journeys on varying reasons. Got more tast of whisky during a social occasion at Laksevåg the winter of 2006/07 and once again during the aftermath of "Carmen" the following autumn. Natural born Competitor -but with faith in a gouvermental regulated ecconomy, a public health system and public schools- saw other heading for academics abroad, refused to budge January 08, and entered the Mother of all Application prosecces. Landed on the feet at Dublin International Airport in August. Operating daily as a political semi-independent in moste public debates, part time commentator in the fields of politics and culture, but do daily search for new businesses.
Today's correspondance:
"Formal" Welcome Reception for International Students. First, dear International Office, define FORMAL. Particulary since you ask peopel to arrive in their National Dresses and tells us that we needs the invitation to enter. For me, as a man that want to show the peopel who actually HAVE a dress like that and arrives in it the respect by showing up dressed in a proper maner; it's a BIT embarrassing to be "the only" student wearing tie and suit! Anyway, it's a matter of style and image. Tho, wearing that dress also was the very peak of the day. Since I went to the Reception in the suit a was, compared with the standard Uni outfit, quite well dressed. And, belive me, the way peopel act when they meets you... Or better, some of lads playing football at the fields manage to miss the ball over the safety net: I get an 16 men's ovation for fetching the ball, in black suit, and throwing it back. They also consistently addressed me as "Sir"; Sorry, Sir, the ball", "Grand, Sir", "Thank you, Sir". THAT, I repeat myself, THAT make a hell of a impression at a simple Norwegian countryside ladd. One extra point to the Irish.
UCD Campus, 8.30PM, GMT
Soundtrack, "In the House - In a Heartbeat" from 28 Days Later.
UCD is huge. Not that 22.000 students are a that many, but all together. The entire Campus. Vaste, and at the Northern part of it mainly consist of a huge plain where it's some constructions going on at day day, and a set of rugby/football fields. By night it's dark, no lamp posts, nothing, just the orange coloured light from the City who rises abow the roof tops outside the Campus wall. There I vent, just a short walk, quite peaceful, in a sharp contrast to the dramatic scenes from this soundtrack. Everyone who have seen 28 Days Later know this track. It's the very ecense of the movie, the last touch who make the British apocalyptic style several divisions better than the American one. Anyway, for those not familiar to the movie, close your eyes, think about a deserted London, empty in a way that you can see that peopel left in a hurry, and the zombie lookalikes back..raveing the empty streets. Then, back to Belfield. I'm walking across the empty rugby field and when I look backwards I can only see the lighted area some 100 meters behind me. The light is quite bright against all the darkness around, it's a bit rain falling, I can only see the shaddows of some containers near the "road" and the iron fences behind them again. Then, out of this neo-gothic surroundings, three runners. THAT'S a kind of creepy...but in a horror-like way; rather poetic.
(Illustration of the nightly activities around UCD's rugby field, taken from 28 Days Later)
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