Religion and Marriage, horse and carriage?

Peter Jöback and Oscar married this midsummer. I randomly stumbled across the clip from Expressen on YouTube. Since it's YouTube there's the usual homophobia all over, so the comments are just a sad testament to... wait, why the hell are you there watching if gays are so disturbing? I mean, it's YouTube, you had to actively look it up to see it. Now that's disturbing... Anyway, what was funny, was that the ad that came up next to it was one from zoosk.com, a dating site for homosexuals, and right below it in the Recommended Videos was one called Christian Videos Online. Whut?

Christian Videos Online brings me to the WLC, World's Last Chance, homepage.

"WLC strives to follow all Biblical truth. The WLC team has made the shocking discovery from the Bible that the seventh-day Sabbath cannot be found except on the Creator's calendar.

In His calendar, the weekly Sabbath always falls on the 8th, 15th, 22nd, and 29th of each month.

Since the mark of the beast is received if one does not worship the Creator on His true Sabbath day, and because WLC infinitely cares about our salvation and yours, WLC is offering US$1,000,000 (one million) to anyone who can convincingly demonstrate from the Scriptures that the true seventh-day Sabbath has ever been recorded in the Bible to have fallen on any other dates than those listed above."

At least they're giving away money, not taking it. The one thing I miss out on for having a personal religion rather than a collective-brain-shutdown is the possibility of making grand, insane social schemes like this. I can't exactly go "Woohoo, Lifestream energy! Let's toss 241 apples in the river to show we honor it, because if you write Lifestream in sixteen languages the letters all add up to 241, and apples are, uh, good!" and expect anyone to come along. You should all join my religion because the spiritual losses I make because of this are sure to harm my immortal soul. If such a thing existed.

...

Ah this post is terribly aggressive. "Collective-brain-shutdown" sounds so negative. I should be more politically correct. "A collective agreement to hand over important decisions, personal responsibility and individual thought to an unseen, unknown entity existing only inside the agreement, and claim that a select few within the community selflessly handles these decisions, responsibility and thought for the masses in the name of the entity through different forms of more of less unspecified communication." How's that? Yeah, too long. Collective-brain-shutdown will have to do.

Electronic desires

I kinda miss playing WoW. It's this sneaky addiction that comes back after six months, every time. A sudden urge to let a pile of pixels hit another pile of pixels in predictable ways for a few hours. Strange. I also miss LoL, mostly because I felt I was getting somewhat good at it and I don't really have a substitute for that kind of gratification. Then I miss, lo and behold, my Razer keyboard. Old, fat HP and Logitech ones, and tiny laptop ones, can only satisfy my gamer fingertips for so long. Finally and conclusively, I miss my Playstation 3. For a myriad of reasons, but once again mostly for the feel of a Playstation controller in my hands, the weight, the perfect fit. The closest I get here is an XBox360, and as everyone knows, that's like replacing your girlfriend with a blow-up doll...

I could make variations of that joke all day. "So that's why all the jocks have one." "For those who are too cheap to get the real thing." "I guess that's fine if all you want is to pump and cross the finish line." "Be sure the batteries will run out just when you're getting comfortable."
Join the fray, it's make-fun-of-xbox-day!

Still Wish I'd Saved The Bunny

Tonight I dreamed about a grand adventure together with a Korean dandy who always smiled. Almost all the way through I had to leave him behind at little homely hotel in the jungle to keep some ugly, black-haired lady happy, however, or she would've brought about the end of the world. But she was nice as long as she was happy, and he didn't seem to mind. Hearing echoes of them laughing together at silly jokes, I continued my journey, and passed a black-cloaked figure standing in front of a burial mound. He looked mildly annoyed at all the laughing. Then I arrived at a small, perfectly square, house in the forest. Inside the walls were painted brightly yellow, and I found a bunny strangled by a plant. I had a green potion I'd found way back and hadn't known what it was for, so I poured it down the bunny's throat, but the lamps on the walls told me it needed three more to revive. Feeling I shouldn't stay too long, I just wanted to take a peek into the bathroom. Inside I found a big, long bathtub sloping down into a hole in the floor without end. In the air hung a white ball of amorphous mass, suspended by red woolen string that almost but not quite touched it. It was the great scientist's big secret, an invention that could recreate the world, and the objective of my adventure. After staring at it in awe for a while, I left the ball, the dead bunny and the house and went back to the hotel, because the scientist might be coming back, and I'd forgotten why I was looking for the thing in the first place.

Jellyfish cookies and jellyfish stew

I dreamed about sneaking around on an oil platform as the right-hand buddy of some imaginary video-game hero, and all the sneaking led us to accidentally get locked into a giant room with knee-high water on the floor together with a big summer-green sea-monster that looked like roots. It was supposed to be a boss monster, but it was sleepy so it was fine as long as you didn't step on it. We ignored it. And in that room I caught electric jellyfish, small ones, which was a dangerous business because they were drifting around like slow pinballs bouncing off the walls and if you got too close you got electrified. A randomly appearing NPC did indeed get electrified, and died and disintegrated like bodies do in video-games. We cared about as much as people care about randomly appearing NPC's in video-games. And then I fried my captured jellyfish in an iron frying pan, without stove or fire, for my mother to eat, because she liked it, but since we had no cheese I didn't want to eat with her. Instead I chopped up those "tentacles" or "hairs" that big jellyfish have into small pieces and deep-fried them, in the same magic frying pan, and shared with my brother. Those were very tasty even without cheese.

Dreamhack

Dreamhack på SVT, t.ex finaler i HoN (med en hel del StarCraft 2 snack). Känns lite konstigt att se på mainstream tv... this is the future, huh? En dag kommer SC2 ha samma tv-space som basket och handboll? För ögonblicket känns det alltid lite awkward, typ, de vet inte alltid vad de pratar om, folk som intervjuas vet inte hur mycket jargong de kan använda...

De varnar för våldsamma scener inför HoN matcherna dock, lol? O.o

What I Wish I Could Say Right

Hi.

Ignore whatever I've written earlier today, I was bored. But there's something I want to say. I've rewritten this post half a dozen times now over several days, trying to find a way to say things right, but I'm giving up. It will never be right. Some things cannot be expressed or shared. I will just state, because it's time to go public:

His name is Kim Jaejoong of Dong Bang Shin Ki, and he has it all. The shoulders, the jaw, the voice, the sense of humor, the eyes, the moves, the style. I will never meet him, probably never see him live considering where I live. That is of no consequence. He exists, somewhere, and for that simple fact I am forever and always grateful.

Always keep the faith.

Mid-game report

Portugal 1 - North Korea 0

I know what I just said, but it's an odd situation. Koreans are Koreans, just like Sweden would still be Sweden even if there were only Sverigedemokrater in our football team. I admit my heart still cringed when the ball hit the net. Sports are supposed to be non-political I guess.

EDIT: 15:10 5-0 for Portugal. Now I just feel sorry for them. But: mission accomplished.

Morning extravaganza

I'm waking up about fifteen to thirty minutes ahead of the alarm now, be it because I've gotten used to it, because it's too bright outside, or because the bed sucks. In any case it meant this morning I had extra time and took a peek at the fanfiction I ran into about my dear Korean boys. I read about a page and then took a solemn vow to never read any fanficion about them ever again. Not because it was bad - on the scale of fanfics I've read it scored rather high in both spelling and story - but because it felt just as wrong as reading fanficition about your friends, without the accompanying hilarity. Instead I've found a subbed Japanese drama series starring my favorite one of them that will satisfy my daily dose of coolness and beauty.

Also, in accordance with the Korean language being prettier than Japanese, the Korean music scene better than the Japanese, and the Korean food tastier than the Japanese (barely), I have now found that the female Korean celebrities are prettier than the Japanese. I do believe I am turning more Korean by these last few years of culture indulgence of both countries - I am slowly coming to love Korea and in particular in comparison with Japan, the two most Korean traits of all. In all but two issues: Korea still has issues with gender equality (i.s.s.u.e.s) and with censorship (the line "I've got you under my skin" in a song was too sexual to be aired on radio -_-). But I'm not sure Japan can be said to be any better with the gender stuff, and them being more leisurely about sex counts only to the benefit that Korean singers can go over there to show off some extra butt once in a while.

IMPORTANT NOTICE
Both the Republic of Korea and the Democratic People's Republic of Korea are in the football World Championship, albeit in different groups - perhaps for the best. Thus far the South are better off within their group, but North plays their second game right now. It's nice to not have Sweden in, because it means no Zlatan, and that I can officially focus all my nationalistic pride on Korea for once. Alas, in this WC, I am crossing my fingers for that South does better than North, that's all I ask. And I hereby request all those unaffiliated with either country to do the same, for me ^^

And yes, it's North Korea that calls itself "the Democratic People's Republic".

IGNORE THE TIMESTAMP ON THIS IT IS WRONG! LOL CAPS! O.o

Manual on data-testing program applied on Qt based applications

Literally:
[This stuff can be useful...]
When you need to call Qt methods from your test script.
For example:
1. when information is not a property
2. when a child is not available through the parent/child hierarchy
3. when the property is an object (say, a model)

How I read it:
[This stuff can be useful...]
When you need to call up all your cute acts from your practiced folder to appease someone.
For example:
1. when you've looked up every book on terrorism, suicide bombing and Islam in the library and men in black come knocking
2. when someone else's kid runs yelling around the train and you're not allowed to kick their ass (but did anyway)
3. when you want to impress someone on the payroll of Hugh Heffner or the likes

Actually I have two more posts I could make, but I think I should probably not.

b.o.r.e.d

There are so many things I would want to do in the name of science.

Raise kids in all possible ways to see how it affects them. Like, studies say most homosexual people have older parents than non-homosexual, I want to try it. And raise some kids with only violent video-games and some completely without any contact with violence and then let them out into the "real world" and see what happened.

Or cut electricity in the entire world. Or see how outreageous I could make the laws of Sweden before people took action. Or kill someone, to see if I'd be all whimpy and throw up and have conscience-hangover or not.

Or kill everyone but me to see if I would survive. I would probably miss people, but *how much*?

Ahhh science...

but if I'd have to write a formal report on any one of those, then no thanks.

The A-list

I made a small insight and because I'm a bit bored at work I shall divulge it.

All things in the world are to me split into two categories; A and B.

Things in A are things I in some way give myself points for, or will go to lengths to accomplish. Things I must know, know how to do, understand, manage and feel confident with. I'd say about half the items in A are voluntarily put there, the rest I force on myself for different reasons. Every item ticked off on A will give me a point in the "me vs the world" scoreboard, every time someone pokes at the fact that I haven't ticked something off I hate them and me equally. It is also not a very long list, simply because I'm so hard on myself that if I put too much up there I'd kill myself.

Things in B are things I don't really care about, that won't give me points, and aren't sore spots. If someone tells me about it, I'll be glad to listen, but that's it. Say, politics. I can surely listen and be interested in politics, but I'm the first to admit I know little of it and care about as much.

I suppose there is a tiny category of C - things I actively avoid or loathe to speak of, but it is very very tiny.

And so the insight: Whatever my parents make into an issue immediately elbows itself a spot on the A-list, however trivial. Because if they can ask about it a second time, then I have gravely failed at life. I can be on my way to the fridge when one of them asks "Have you made lunch for tomorrow", and I literally feel a point falling off my scoreboard, down into my guts. Now ask me again why I hate when people say "oh it's so sunny why aren't we outside" :P

Idiotic self-imposed perfectionism and inability to handle critizism - check!

The Arithmetics of Socialization

Well there you go, I actually got the urge to kill someone today. That makes it officially one week, 168 hours. I've spent almost 40 hours away and about 50 asleep, and a little more than 10 hiding away in safe, dark corners of glorious loneliness, let's largely overevaulate them to 18 (it's not, but that rounds off the final number nicely). That leaves something around 60 hours.

That is how long, although strained at the end, I can spend with my family until I really want to crawl out of my skin. Not on end, mind you. Spread out.

What ticked me over the edge was that one, and sometimes two, persons here insists on planning my life for me. Not in the sense of what to study or anything important like that. No, but what I am to eat, when, how, who I am to ask what, which bus to take, how to fix every little practical detail of my life according to what is apparently universally optimal, as if I wouldn't care about that myself, or am unable to know that if I work one hour longer one day I can leave one hour earlier another. Having been away for a really long time this time also enhances it, cuz, you know, I've successfully planned quite a number of days for myself and lo and behold, I haven't starved to death or completely ruined my life from missing a bus. Sometimes people seem to think that waiting for a bus for an hour or eating odd things together because you had nothing else is something terrible and must be avoided at all costs. I can play cellphone games for an hour at the bus stop instead of playing computer games at home, and I quite enjoy eating strange things - people are too conservative about what food goes together. People should also take care of their own big important problems before they start poking at my small and unimportant ones.

Actually, in most things I do, I enjoy it quite a bit more if I decided upon it alone, and figured out the method alone, and planned it and did it and finished it alone. Nothing is more satisfying than succeeding with something and to know I figured it out, I solved it, I managed. Maybe it's selfish. Maybe it's rude. Maybe I'm boring. Whatever.

60 hours.

In a way it's a lot. A little more than two whole days. In another, it's a very, very small number. No, cats are the way to go. I solve my problems, they solve theirs, and then we can cuddle.

Second day at the Company:

Lightening the mood:
My instructor is a very nice French man, who looks very very French. He speaks Swedish rather well, albeit with strong French pronunciation. Backwards transliteration from French to Swedish usually is fast enough in my head to keep up. Then he had to say the letter "h" for me when I was typing in the console. Before he'd said it the way they say it in their alphabet, it sounds like "azsh", but this time he tried to say it in Swedish and made a noise similar to a strangled hamster. I had to hide in the bathroom to get to laugh like an idiot 6yo without hurting his feelings. It's weird that an almost soundless letter can be so much of a problem. That and "y". Since that episode he switches to English instead when I can't decipher.

The Company has employees all over the world, so for easy communication it uses an own chat client that everyone who works for them are connected to while on the clock. I'd been spying at it for a day and a half without introducing myself, but when someone spelled Korea with a C I had to intervene. At which point some people got confused because how could I be Korean and Swedish at the same time?
"I'm adopted, so I've got a Korean UI with Swedish coding," I said. And thus I won the hearts of all the little nerdy boys working at the big nerdy Company.

wth
Two days into work I have to say it's not so bad. Not sure what is going on though, because I'm sleeping about 6 hours a night, working 8, and spending at least two hours on getting ready and travel. So what am I doing with the remaining 8 hours? And how come I feel bright and refreshed when the alarm rings in the morning? (Maybe the last is because I've finally figured out how to make the damned phone play music at me with slowly rising volume, without vibrating like a mad hatter.) I miss playing, but not overwhelmingly so. Mostly it's just frustrating to have a computer and then not be able to play anything on it. And I haven't felt like killing anyone here ever since I got back.

This is going too smoothly to be true. I'll just sit here and wait for someone to come crashing in through the door and bring everything back to normal suckiness.

Windows vs Linux of the Day:
I prefer the "Ctrl-c Ctrl-v" way of copypasting a million times over the "mark and middle-mouse-click". For so many reasons. One that many might agree with me about would be that my laptop has a touchpad and thus, surprise, no middle mouse button! Also, using the mouse is clearly a sign of a n00b. It's weird since Linux often insists on using the keyboard for everything otherwise :s

Tainted

Buried in an unmarked grave
part of my heart
rotting there together with your corpse.
I picture little white worms writhing in your empty eye sockets
and I feel peace.

Am I going mad?

Your grave is here in my chest
and the dead in me longs to touch you
longs to wring the necks of the living
longs to lay them softly at your feet as gifts of love.

Only this can be true love
slowly losing my mind.
My fingers gently brushing the faces of the surviving
while the missing piece of me cries for bloody vengeace
for the crime of outliving you.

Would you want their corpses, my love?
Would you accept my gifts?
Is it the dead in me, or the dead in you?

Am I going mad?

Only this can be eternal love
that can taint me so.
Like your sickly, putrid blood
soaking into the soft woolen fabric of my mind
a love that can never be washed away.

Wroom

Fell on the bike, first time since I started biking again. It's when I start or stop that I risk tipping over to the left, and if I do, there's a loooong terrible moment where I know I'm going to fall over and can do absolutely nothing about it. I can fret and wave about, but all it accomplishes is to make me look even more stupid. That's why I'm afraid of biking. I do it anyway because of the time it saves, but I'm always afraid of having to stop at a red light, always heave a sigh of relief when I don't tip over. 

And unlike falling when standing up or something, there is absolutely no way to fall gracefully on a bike. Either you get the damned thing over you, or under you, or it gets stuck to your pants or your shoes, and it has you collapse very un-prettily in a pile of arms and legs and metal.

In this case I grabbed onto the basket of a nearby parked bike to try and stop the fall, which only, of course, made that bike fall on top of me too. Once I'd untangled myself, there's a woman standing a few feet away staring at me. "Are you hurt?" And I go "no no" and say some excuse about my leg being bad and pointing to the thingy I have attached to help with walking. Drunk students everywhere around me, so she probably thought I was drunk. That hurt my pride something incredible, for some reason. Not only did she watch me have one of my damned, hated, fearful, humiliating battles with an immobile bike sloooowly tipping over, she also probably though I was too drunk to handle the immobile bike. I felt like attacking her, just to be sure.

I didn't though. Sometimes that's the only difference between me and a serial killer, that I don't, but that's all that really matters. That, and the fact that someone who can't handle a fucking immobile bike probably does not make an amazing serial killer.

Please do appreciate the wry cynicism in my voice here. I'm trying to deal with the fact that because I sloooowly tipped over on an immobile (fucking) bike, I'm going to be extra terrified for a couple of days, or weeks, or months. Last time I quit for several years. God I was such a whimp.

Half-Life Challenge Accepted

Memories blur together and if I kept a diary at the time (I kept one sporadically) it's not here, so I have to estimate.

Half my life ago I was in 4th grade, no? Kids older than me by two years were scary adults with mysterious minds that should be avoided, because I figured they were smarted than me somehow but couldn't decide how, and adults were npc:s in the mmorpg called life, and they were only there so you could figure out how to manipulate them into giving you the quest item. Most of the time they were no help at all and just repeated inane conversation-lines.

Half my life ago is when boys started treating me as "girl" instead of "person" and I fell into a depression over that that lasts to this day. It's when my rivalry with my Nemesis hit its peak, and when I lost basically all of my friends, although part of it was because I rather was alone than hung out with their stupid new friends. I have one friend left from then, and I would give my life for him.

Half my life ago is probably when my ugly little first stories came to be in text-form. They had existed in my head long before that, but writing was too much of a pain before Computer made its entrance into my life. They were mostly plagiarisms and stolen characters, but gotta start somewhere. It's also when I began learning English.

I fought with my brother, no double there's some scribbled "I hate my brother" somewhere on a wall or piece of paper from then. There are many of those. It's also somewhere around this time that my mother got cancer the second time, but I know that only because I've been told; I have no memories of that. None, except that dad brought home our cat, my cat, then because he thought mom would like it. Other than that it's all a big blank.

Ah my cat. I miss him like crazy. I'd kill for the chance to go back in time and have him sleep on my face one more time, us breathing each others breaths. Now I feel like crying. Bye.