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Weblog | I don't like the word blog, it's ugly. Anyway, new content happens here. (Swedish dito)

About me and the site | Twenty-something male who likes text. Obsessed with things such as books, reality, communication, and one or two tv-shows.

Archives | Things written here since... well, 2001. Some of it is good, some is utter shait.

Books | Books read, not books written. So far I've struggled to maintain unpublished.

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Links | Outwards, away, flee.

e-mail | J. Nicklas Andersson

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2001-08-13

I have an exam in mass media on Tuesday. I really should study the literature, but Ghu damn. It’s boring. And as if that’s not all, the book is published by Bonnier. Bonnier is, for those of you who don’t follow the Who’s Who in Swedish media corporations, the company who not only owns a publisher; it also owns a very large part of the big national magazine distributor. (Can we say: “We don’t want to distribute thing we don’t like”?)

Ray Bradburys Green Shadows, White Whale is much more interesting, not to say better written. The dialog is, as usual, exquisite.

-- Your reason for being in Ireland?
-- Reason has nothing to do with it.
-- That’s a grand start, but what does it mean?
-- Madness.
-- What kind would that be?
-- Two kinds. Literary and psychological. I am here to flense and render down the White Whale.
-- Flense. Render down. White Whale. That would be Moby Dick, then?
-- You read!

Time. Time has somehow become the most important part of our life. I don’t think I exaggerate too much; things become smaller, more information pressed together to be transmitted at the smallest possible amount of time. Thanks to the news, we now know that while there are some heavy fighting elsewhere and corpses fills the tv-screen, the stock has also lowered five micro points.

To capture time and keep it hostage is not such a bad idea. I doubt that Letterror (great name by the way) will actually go down the path of the terrorist, so... The clocks will be released. Their project is neat; to collect photos of every five minutes of the first twelve hours.

Damn, damn, damn. Why, oh why is it in a hardcover and not a simple trade paperback? I have nothing agains harcovers at all, I probably like them more than the next guy. But there are some books that I just don’t want to buy when it’s downright too expensive. My wallet can’t handle this in addition to the rest of things on my soon-to-buy-list. It’ll burst.

If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor is one of these books that I’d like in paperback. Even though it is Bruce “The Bruce” Campbells autobiography. From what I’ve heard it’s fun. I want it now.